


A Modern Retelling

by tatteredspider



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Blood Magic, Date Night, F/M, Gun Violence, Kissing on the Beach, M/M, Modern AU, Mommy Issues, Multi, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Tattoos, Violence, blood mage?, death of a familiar character, dreaming of a threesome, graphic depiction of the results of violence, lots of artsy stuff, making out in a car, sleeping in a puppy pile, solo action, threesome- F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-02-13 09:50:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 81,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2146251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatteredspider/pseuds/tatteredspider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirkwall in the modern age. How would things have been different? How would they remain the same? How would Fenris look in really tight jeans (damned good, let me tell you)</p><p> </p><p>I NEED TO APOLOGIZE! Last month I had three chapters almost ready to post when my computer was infiltrated with Ransomeware. Completely had to dump everything on my hardrive, lost all I was working on. Last night, after rewriting at least some of it, the old beast gave up the ghost and now it's all gone... again. I will be posting new, I promise, it's just goin to be a while. *sigh*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Bioware owns it all! But sometimes I steal a little to play with.

     “Okay, guys, I'm out of here!” Nickie cried, waving to the kitchen staff as she escaped out the back door.

     “Okay, dove! See you tomorrow!” Norah's muffled voice called from the front of the bar, still finishing the tallies for the night. Nickie fled into the night before anyone else could say anything. Or more rightly, before Varric could call her back for 'one last thing'.

     Normally she loved helping her boss and friend with whatever he might need, even if it meant staying another hour, or two or six, after her normal work hours. But tonight, with the air a heavy humid weight making her sweat horribly in the bar's sweltering kitchen, she just needed out and as far away as she could get.

     Which in this case was going to be through the back alley and around the corner to the house.

     It was only a few steps before she felt the tingling at the back of her neck that let her know she was being watched. Like greasy fingers stroking the back of her skull, it caused the short hairs on her arms and neck to stand on end. With a glance over her shoulder, she sped up her pace.

     It was a trip she had made any number of times before, in darker and more creepy circumstances, without incident, but tonight felt different and she just really felt the absolute need to get home. Nickie picked up her pace, silently cursing her choice in wearing strappy sandals for work at the bar as opposed to sensible sneakers that she could run in.

     She didn't hear the rushed footsteps until she had reached the end of the alley, and by that time, the men were too close for her to get away. Three men, all dressed in the same dark, forbidding uniform, surrounded her, backing her into the alley wall.

     She opened her mouth to say something, scream something, but a fist flashed out, connecting squarely with her jaw. Her head snapped back, the back of her skull hitting the wall. She might have made a noise then, she wasn't sure, before the dancing lights behind her eyes receded to darkness.

                                                 ****************

 

    At first Fenris wasn't sure that he had heard anything at all. The night was one of those deep, sultry ones that you could only find in high summer when the air pressure was just about right for a thunderstorm but had yet to let loose. He was prowling the streets after meeting with a client about a new installation piece for his office. He hated having to speak face-to-face with stupid Hightown business types that wouldn't know art if it bit them in the ass. Usually a long walk through Lowtown could center him before he crawled into his car to sleep.

     But tonight felt odd. And now he would swear- Yes! There! Down that alley! There were voices and shuffling that could only mean one thing. Something to fight!

     Fenris reached out blindly, hand connecting with a long piece of broken rebar before running into the dark stretch of alley. There were at least three men, surrounding a misshapen lump of...something on the ground. As one, they turned towards him and Fenris smiled ferally. _Kirkwall Special Forces! Some of my favourite punching bags!_

     He ran swinging, bar connecting with a raised arm, knocking a gun to the ground. It clattered and slid out of the others' reach and they backed away, one step, two, before turning tail to run. Rebar swung again, connecting with a retreating back, making the man squeal as he stumbled and fell. The other two continued on, leaving their fallen comrade to the mercies of the elf, swinging his make shift weapon again and again, blood flying from lacerated skin.

      When the figure stopped moving, stopped mewling for the pain to stop, Fenris finally came back to himself, panting heavily. Fuck! How do I explain this one? He dropped the rebar as though it were a live snake, wiping the sweat and blood off on his jeans, turning back to the alley to see what, exactly, the three had been doing. At first he couldn't find the spot they had been. It was dark and little light from the street filtered into this part of the alley.

     When he heard the groan he nearly made a run for it himself. Instead, his feet took him closer, step by step, until his eyes spotted a flash of flesh and a mass of dark chocolate hair. He ran the last few paces, sliding in next to the prone form and turning it into his arms. A girl- no a woman but writ small- the back of her head a mess of blood and her face swelling alarmingly. She groaned again and her eyelids fluttered but she didn't wake.

     With one arm still under the woman's head, he reached into his pants pocket with the other and retrieved his cell phone. A quick swipe of his thumb and a voice cheerfully answered “Kirkwall emergency! Police, Fire or Ambulance?”

     “Female down. Multiple blunt force trauma to the skull. Alley at Justinia and Seventh, behind the Hanged Man Bar and Grill. Police and Paramedics, ASAP.” he barked.

     “Is the female still breathing?”

     “Breathing and making noise but not conscious.”

     “Can I get your name, sir?”

     “Fenris Blackfeather.”

     “Oh, Fen! Okay, well, you know the routine then, good. Cops and the bus are on their way. ETA four minutes. Is the female the only pick up?”

     “No the-” he turned to look back to the mouth of the alley “-shit! I had the perp down but looks like he's made a run for it.”

     “Dammit, Fen! You tried to take down, what, some mugger? By yourself?”

     “Yeah, well, I wasn't about to let somebody get the crap beaten out of her when I could step in, now was I?”

     “Yeah, okay, I get it. You should be hearing the sirens any second now.”

     And he could. He let out a sigh of relief that soon this burden would be off his hands and he could crawl into the back seat of his car and sleep til morning. “Yeah, I hear them.”

     “Okay, Fen, can you describe her injuries for me? For the report?”

     “Looks like she was punched a couple of times to the jaw and right orbital structure. There's swelling around the eye, but it doesn't look broken. Possibly just a hairline fracture. Rear skull hit a brick wall after at least one punch. It's lacerated and bleeding. Might need stitches. Punches or kicks to the abdomen and arms. Right foot's been stomped, at least one, probably two broken bones and dislocated toes.”

     “Nothing else?”

     “No, thank the Maker. I stumbled on them too fast. Okay, I have to go. Paramedics and police have arrived.”

     “Okay. Oh! And Fen?”

     “Yes?”

     “Try and be nice. They're just doing their jobs.”

                                           *******************

 

     Anders stood at the coffee machine, trying to simultaneously scratch at three days worth of stubble and drink slightly burnt coffee. A regular thirty-six hour shift in the ER, then another twenty-four hours of back-to-back surgeries because of a massive pile up out on the Imperial Highway was not conducive to good nutritional habits. And then somebody didn't put on fresh coffee this morning when they got up.

     Slowly he shuffled his way out of the kitchen and down the hall towards Nickie's studio. Really it was just another bedroom in the house the group shared, and Varric would probably rent it out sooner or later, but for now it was a bright, cheerful space for her to work. This early in the morning, she should be up to her elbows in paints and probably wouldn't even realize that he was there.

     As usual.

     He knocked lightly, then turned the knob and stepped in. A half-finished landscape of fantastical colours was propped up on the easel, a sketch of an approximation of the finished piece propped up by a pile of books on a nearby table. Paints were aligned in a row, ready to start work and cleaned brushes sat on the easel's small shelf. But no Nickie.

     Anders scratched at his chin again. Nickie never slept this late, even when she was so sick with the flu he took her to the ER with a temperature of one hundred and four. This wasn't like her at all. He wandered farther down the hall. Behind the next door to the right he could hear Nickie's brother, Carver, snoring loud enough to rattle his windows. The young man swore for the longest time that he never snored, until the morning that Nickie had sat outside his door with a video camera for an hour, taping the door shaking from the sounds eminating from his chest. The girl had laughed about it, telling him it was adorable that her giant of a baby brother even sounded like a bear, not just looked like one.

     Next door on the left was Nickie's room and Anders hesitated to enter, even though the door was ajar. The thought of finding her sleeping, or maker forbid getting dressed, had all the blood from his face heading south of the border. _Suck it up, stupid! She's almost young enough you to be your daughter...if you started really early...stop that!_

     He slapped open the door, harder than intended, not that it mattered. Nickie had never bothered removing the old seventies wallpaper that adorned the walls of her room, a fancy geometric pattern in different shades of dusty rose. She had left the wood trim and copious wall shelves their natural colour and and old patchwork quilt and an abundance of pillows graced the boxspring and two mattresses that she called a bed. Everything was neat as a pin and obviously not been slept in.

     Just then, Anders cell phone rang and he answered it without looking, hoping it was Nickie.”Doctor Anderson? It's Lirene at the hospital.”

    “Hey, Lirene. Look, I just came off of sixty hours straight. I can't come in for anything until I've had some sleep.” he sighed.

     “No, sir. It's not that. You are listed as an emergency contact for a young woman by the name of Nichola Hawke. She's being brought in by ambulance and we're going to need next of kin-”

     Anders dropped the phone from suddenly numb fingers. Suddenly pale and sweating he whispered.

     “Nickie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be posting inspiration pics, maybe a few ficlets on my tumblr: http://selenehawke.tumblr.com/


	2. Chapter 2

     Fenris was sitting on the curb, trying vainly to wipe dried blood from his hands with a moist towelette, when he spotted the two dishevelled men exiting a house further up the street. They were both fairly large, the darker slightly taller than his lighter counter part, both obviously sleep deprived. And when they spotted the group of police and emergency personnel all over the alley, they turned and made their way towards them.

     Detective Hendyr, who had been sitting with Fenris, asking him about what he had come upon, stood when he saw the men and approached them, hands out. The younger was frantic as he came closer, pale and angry. Hendyr spoke to him quietly, calmly, hands out nearly touching the boy's chest. And he really was not that much more than a boy, features still softened by youth.

     “Donnic, what the hell happened?” he cried, tears beginning to gather in his eyes. The blond man that had approached with him laid a gentle hand upon the boy's arm. Obviously knew the detective previously, being on a first name basis.

     “She was jumped in the alley behind the bar,” the detective told them. “Three guys, maybe muggers.” He jerked a thumb in Fenris' direction. “Gentleman over there heard and scared 'em off. Called the ambulance. She's going to be okay, Carver. Mostly 'cause of him.”

     The boy's head twitched in Fenris' direction and he pushed past the detective. Fenris stood quickly. He looked like he wanted to pull the elf's ears off and Fenris was prepared to protect himself if need be. He stopped inches away from Fenris, staring down at him with a look of anguish, then swiftly grabbed the smaller man about the shoulders and pulled him into a bear hug.

     “Thank you,” Carver whispered before releasing him and turning to his friend. “Let's go. I need to see her.”

     It was several minutes before Fenris realized that his mouth was hanging open in shock. Donnic came up and patted him on the shoulder. “You gonna be okay?”

     Fenris shook his head quickly to dispel his look of surprise. “Yes. May I go now?”

     “Yeah, but come by the station sometime in the next day or so? And I'll call if I need you for anything.”

     “Thank you, Detective,” he replied softly, heading back out the other end of the alley and towards his car.

     His first thought was to climb into the back and sleep for as many hours as he could get away with, but instead he struggled into the front and started the engine. A flash of pale skin and chocolate hair in his mind's eye, and he was pulling out and heading for Grey Memorial Hospital.

                                      ***********************

 

     Nickie groaned and tried to reach up and rub at her forehead, only to be hindered by the tight pull of cords, or something, attached to her arm. What the hell did I drink last night? She thought to herself muzzily. The pain in her head was excruciating and she opened her eyes slowly, expecting to see her dusty rose room, blankets a mass about her waist and arm. Instead she found herself in a nondescript hospital room, i.v. tube strapped to her hand, monitors beeping softly nearby.

     “What the fuck?”

     “Nickie!” a deep voice cried and suddenly her little brother's face came into view. Pale, with dark circles beneath his eyes, Nickie thought he looked like she should be in this bed more than she should. Looking more carefully she realized that he was still in his sleep pants and tee shirt, hair mussed from bed.

     “Hey, little brother,” she croaked, throat dry. Another set of hands entered her field of vision, a sweating glass of water with a bendy straw approaching her lips. She sucked the liquid down greedily before looking for the owner of said hands. Anders was dressed just as casually as her brother, though he had gone out of his way to find his white coat and name tag, stethoscope about his neck. The doctor looked even worse if that were possible. She remembered that he had been on call before her shift, though it was obvious he had gone home and prepared for sleep before coming back in.

     “Well, hello there, sweetheart,” he smiled. “About time you woke up.”

     Nickie tried sitting up, but when that failed, Anders fiddled with the bed controls until it was in a seated position. “What the hell happened?”

     Anders and Carver exchanged concerned glances before the blond turned back to her. “What do you remember?”

     Nickie thought back to the night before. She said goodnight to Norah, run out into the alley, then...footsteps behind her, a flash of pain. She turned scared eyes up to her friend and brother and they both reached out to touch a hand, an arm. “I...I'm not sure,” she whispered.

     “It's okay, Sis,” Carver said. “Donnic's outside the room, waiting to take your statement. And the guy that found you. I guess he scared off some guys and called the ambulance.” He turned to the door and motioned to someone out there.

     Nickie was shocked. Someone had jumped to her defence? That never happened. At least, not outside of bad romance movies. She tried really hard to remember a man coming to her rescue, but it just wouldn't come.

     Donnic Hendyr returned with Carver, a broad smile covering his face. “Well, hello there Serrah Hawke. How are you feeling?”

     “I keep telling you, Donnic, it's Nickie, and I feel like I've been run over by a herd of Bronto, then they backed up and did it again. “ She chuckled. Which was just painful enough to make her wince. “Crap that hurts.”

     “My apologies, Nickie. I won't keep you over long,” Donnic said, pulling a seat over closer to the bed and pulling out a battered notebook. “I just need to talk to you about what happened last night.”

     “I'm not really sure. I left the Hanged Man after my shift, around one. I'm the only one that uses the alley because it leads right over to the house.” Nickie reached up and rubbed at her temple. It was really starting to throb. She'd need to see about painkillers soon. “I remember hearing footsteps behind me, but that's about it.”

      “Any thought to who it might have been? Or how many?” Donnic asked as he scribbled.

      Nickie shook her head, a mistake with the pounding going on now behind her eyes. She looked over to Anders who palmed a couple of tablets and held them out to her with her water. “I'm sorry. I just can't remember.”

     Donnic smiled. “It's all right, Nickie. I'll speak to you again, soon. And if anything comes to you, just give me a shout, okay?” he stood and tucked his notebook away. “And I'll tell Aveline that all's well.”

     “Crap,” Nickie sighed. “Ave's going to have kittens.”

     Donnic chuckled as he exited, only to be replaced by another form in the doorway. Nickie squinted, trying to make out who this new man was.

     He was slight, taller than her- though there were ten year olds out there taller than she was- but not by more than a few inches. His skin was a dusky shade, with the oddest white tattoos swirling about the visible skin of his neck and hands, and hair so pale that Nickie would swear it was white as well. And there was something...odd about him, something that she couldn't seem to place. He cleared his throat, more to gain the attention of the two men in the room than to actually moisten his throat.

     Carver's head whipped around and he broke out into a wide grin, though Anders' brows drew down in a slight scowl. “Fenris, come in. Meet my sister.”

     He took another step forward, hesitant until Carver grabbed him about the shoulders and practically dragged him to the bed. The man was blushing lightly, uncomfortable with the attention. And his hair really was white, right down to the root, though is brows were black. But what took Nickie's breath away were his eyes. They were large, the deep green of forest moss or emeralds in the sun. She couldn't seem to pull her eyes away from them. And then she realized that neither could he.

     Fenris looked down at this tiny woman that he had helped and knew that he was lost. Even with the swelling along her jaw and the dark ring of bruising around her right eye, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Had you asked him what about her was beautiful,he wouldn't be able tell you, it was so undefinable. He fought the urge to reach out and stroke those deep chocolate tresses, even with the blood matted in the tangles. Her eyes were the colour of a storm wracked sea, grey and green with flecks of coppery brown, with a framing of long, thick lashes. Her skin reminded him of pale caramel and he couldn't tell if it was her natural colour or a tan.

     He didn't realize that he had been silently staring until Carver clasped him across the shoulders and pushed him even closer to the bed. “This is the guy, Nick. The one that saved your ass.”

     Fenris flushed in embarrassment. He hadn't saved anyone. He had just found an excuse to let off some steam, and she happened to be there. She smiled, a slight curve of the lips that made her eyes twinkle. His eyes drifted to her lips, then looked quickly away so as not to lean in and kiss at their fullness.

     Nickie began to blink, the fight to reopen her eyes harder each time. “What was in those pills?” she slurred slightly.

     Anders snorted at her side and set the bed to lower. “Some pretty strong codeine, sweetheart. Now get some sleep. The osteologist will be in soon to see about setting your foot, then we can get you home to bed.”

     Fenris started. The familiarity with which this man spoke to her spoke of a loved one, maybe a lover. And the looks the doctor shot him screamed of jealousy. The woman was taken, apparently, something that Fenris did not want to be involved in.

     Nickie nodded slowly, eyes drifting shut. “Carver? Take Anders home and make him sleep, okay?”

     “Sure thing, Sis.”

     “And, um, mister?” Fenris looked down at the almost sleeping woman, eyes closed, lips tilted in a sweet smile.”Yes.”

     “Stay?”

     The elf started, as did the others. Did this slip of a woman just ask a complete stranger to stay in her room with her? There was really only one answer for such an odd request.

     “Of course.”


	3. Chapter 3

     Fenris sat and watched her breathe. He still wasn't sure why he had agreed to stay other than his mouth hadn't received the memo from his brain when he was going to say no. When the osteologist came with his little portable x-ray, he excused himself to go outside, light up a cigarette and check his cell phone.

     Three calls, three messages. One from yesterday's client, with attached pictures of the space to be filled. Fine whatever.

     One from his agent, Anso, telling him his contract was being bought by another agent. Well fuck! He'd just gotten Anso broken in. Not that the damned dwarf ever really got him any work. He usually ended up finding his own.

     And the last from Dan.

     Dammit to the Void and back! Fenris clutched the phone hard, until he heard the creak of cracking plastic. _Calm down! So he found your cell number. It's not like you've been careful about that. The bill was still sent to a p.o. box in Starkhaven, far from Kirkwall. And if Dan finds you again, you can just pick up and go._ Except Fenris really didn't want to have to leave again. He was tired of running from Dan, as though it was his fault and not that bastard's.

     Fenris sighed, sliding his phone back in a pocket before going back into the hospital. A quick trip into the cafeteria for coffee and a sandwich and he returned to Nickie's room.

     He stayed until visiting hours were over without her waking, lost in a heavily drugged sleep. And when he stood to leave he leaned in and kissed her lips, lightly. Again, he didn't know why.

                                                   ****************

 

     Nickie woke slowly, caught in a dream of a handsome elf, dark and exotic, swooping down to save her. From what she couldn't have told you, but the kiss of her dream elf still lingered upon her lips and she smiled.

     “Well, good morning there, Sweetheart.”

     Nickie turned to see her favourite doctor sitting at her bedside, newspaper open in his lap, coffee gripped tightly. For once his smile reached his eyes and he seemed well rested. “Hey!” she replied, finding the button to move the bed to a sitting position and rearranging herself accordingly. The iv had been removed and her foot had been set in plaster as she slept. She ached, but that was bearable. What wasn't was her intense need to go to the bathroom.

     “Um, Anders? Could I um...” her cheeks flushed red in embarrassment.

     “Oh!” he exclaimed, setting aside his paper and drink. “Of course, just hold on one sec!” He reached out to help her turn and dangle her legs over the edge of the bed, then pulled a set of crutches away from the wall. “You're going to need these for a while so you might as well get some practice in now.”

     Nickie hopped down onto her good foot, Anders steadying her when she wobbled, then tucked the crutches under her arms and hobbled to the bathroom, the doctor by her side. When he went to enter the room with her as well, she turned to him with incredulous eyes. “I think I can pee by myself there, Anders.”

      “Shit! Sorry, yeah. Just...call out if you need a hand.” he stuttered, flushing red.

     Nickie giggled. “If I yell and you clap I will kill you, you know that right?”

     “Of course! Why do you think I'd do it now, when you can't catch me?”

     She slapped his arm playfully and went to relieve the pressure that was causing her back teeth to float.

     When she returned, Carver had arrived with a bag of clothes and one shoe- “Why bring both when one's in a cast?”- and she dressed as quickly as a woman in pain and two men trying to help with their eyes closed could. When the ordeal was over, she thumped down into the chair while Carver hopped onto her bed, exaggerating their height difference dramatically. Anders wandered off to speak with her attending physician, to see if they could get her signed out.

     “So,” Carver began, “what happened to your saviour?”

     “I don't know,” Nickie sighed regretfully. “I was hoping he might still be around so I could thank him properly, not all doped up on pain meds. I don't even remember his name.”

     “Here,” Carver reached into his jacket and pulled out a business card. “Donnic got it from him and gave it to me.” He passed it to his sister almost reluctantly.

     It was a regular sized card, glossy instead of mat. On one side was the standard name and phone number- no address, strangely- but instead of a blank back, there was the picture of a beautiful silver wolf statue made completely out of small slivers of metal. The wolf's teeth were bared in a snarl that looked so lifelike that Nickie felt for sure that it was prepared to remove her throat. She flipped back to the name. Just one, no surname. Fenris.

     She looked back up to her brother. “Gorgeous isn't it?” he asked, taking the card and slipping it back into his wallet. “I was thinking of giving it to Varric, see if he might want a piece for the bar.”

    _Oh, he will_ ,she thought to herself. _If I have to promise to work every holiday from now til I'm forty, we will agree to owning a Fenris piece._

                                              *******************

 

     Fenris sat in his car in the hospital parking lot for over an hour, trying to get up the nerve to go and see her. He could still taste her on his lips, sweet like apples and cinnamon. She had wanted him there. Why was this so damned hard? It's not like he should be afraid. She was just a little minute of a thing. He could break her over one knee if he wanted. He'd done it to larger men than her.

     Then he saw her hobble out the front doors, her brother and the blond doctor helping her navigate with the new crutches and his heart sank. She looked up at the blond and smiled and he gave up. He didn't see her eyes find him as he pulled away, filling with something akin to loss.

     He drove for a while before finally pulling up to the small garage he rented to work. It wasn't big, certainly not big enough to have a bed in as well as his work, but he could store his torches and cutters, as well as materials and in-progress pieces here. His signature piece, Little Wolf as he called it, was situated on a far bench, snarling at all who entered the garage.

     Fenris smiled and approached the piece he was working on now. It was a crow, commissioned by some influential Antivan he'd never heard of but with money to burn. It was almost finished, perched, slumped almost, glaring over it's shoulder in insolence. Eventually, once the last of the feathers had been welded on, he would blacken the entire thing with the blow torch, then spray it with fixative to keep it that way. Then a set of eyes from a local taxidermist to give it that almost realistic feel and he could hand it over.

     And then maybe he could afford to make the necessary repairs on the car. She wasn't going to last too much longer if he kept treating her the way he had been, not that he'd had a lot of choice.

     Fenris rubbed a hand lovingly along the crow's back, then slipped on his welding mask and thick leather apron. With the click-woosh of the blow torch, he was transported away from the real world for a few hours.

                                               **********************

 

     Instead of going home, Nickie insisted that the boys take her to the Hanged Man first. She was adamant that she let her boss know what had happened in person.

     The Hanged Man Bar and Grill was the oldest known drinking establishment in all of the Free Marches. No one knew who originally owned the place, but after being bought out by the Tethras family more than four hundred years ago, it had become THE place to eat and drink for the blue collar workers of Kirkwall. And after the most recent owner, Varric Tethras, had added the full restaurant menu, the people of Lowtown now had an inexpensive place to treat their families to a night out.

     Part of it's charm was that it still held on to it's old world appeal. The original brick and wood work had been lovingly restored, polished to withing an inch of it's life to shine in the light of the new full sized window that faced into the central market.

     An upstairs patio had also been added to what had once been the roof. Simple tables and chairs circled the walls, while a grouping of refurbished dresser drawers, wooden crates, and even an old guitar, now housed a beautiful collection of flowering plants and small water feature. Nickie loved the patio and would spend her breaks there if the tables weren't all full up.

     The trio thumped and banged as they attempted to navigate Nickie's crutches in the door and a deep male voice called out from farther inside the building that they were closed.

     “I know!” Nickie yelled in return, wobbling uncertainly over to the nearby wrap-around bar and thumping onto a stool. She had the feeling that she'd be wobbling and thumping for a while yet.

     “I gotta go to work,” Carver said softly, leaning down to brush a kiss on Nickie's cheek. “No more getting mugged, okay?”    

     She chuckled. “I'll do my best. Hey can I get that card from you? I want to show it to Varric.”

     He pulled it out and slipped it in her hand, waving goodbye to the dwarf as he descended the stairs from the back party room and office area.

     “Hawke!” he exclaimed, rushing at break neck speed. “What in the Void happened?”

     “Mugging,” she replied, waving her hand as though to wipe it away. “Nothing major.” Anders just snorted, moving around the bar to pour himself a glass of orange juice. One of the great things about his friends was he knew where he could get free drinks if he needed them.

     “That was you?” Varric cried, taking the girl's hand in his own, face now almost ash grey. “I didn't hear about it until this morning when I opened up, but the cops wouldn't tell me who. Norah and I saw some guy head down the alley when we were closing up, but figured it had to be him that got hit. Shit! Did he do the mugging? Do I need to tell the cops I saw something?”

     “No, Varric, it's okay. He's my saviour actually.” Anders snorted again and Nickie gave him a dirty look before returning to the dwarf. “His name is Fenris and he's some kind of metal artist. Here.” she passed him the business card.

     Varric looked it over thoughtfully. The wolf was gorgeous and if it was an example of work the kid was capable of, he wanted to speak with him. Then he recognized the name and had to laugh. His new little business venture was already bearing fruit. What do ya know? “Can I keep the card, Princess?” he asked before tucking it into the pocket of his suit vest.

     “It's technically Carver's but as long as you get it back to him, that would be fine.” she said. “So, uh, as you can see, I won't be waitressing for a while.”

     “Well, of course not, Princess, but don't you worry. Your room at the house is comped until you get back on your feet, and if you run low on something, you just let me know, okay?”

      Nickie had to blink back the tears. She had the best boss/landlord/friend in the world.”Thanks Varric. You are the mostest. Now, I've got to get home before I fall asleep on your bar stool, fall and break something else. Anders would never let me hear the end of it if I did.”

     “No problem, Princess. Come by in a few days when you feel up to it and we'll hang on the patio.” Nickie smiled and kissed the dwarf on the cheek, reaching and rubbing at the bit of thick chest hair poking out of the collar of his shirt. “You got a date.”

                                        **********************

 

     Varric returned to his office, Fenris' card pinched between two fingers, other hand tapping at his lips as he walked. So this is the kid he bought from Anso, huh? The wolf piece was breathtaking, and if the rest of his work was as good, he might just be exactly what Varric wanted for the little venture he had in mind.

     The dwarf entered his office and went straight to his laptop, entering Fenris' name into the search engine he continually had running. What came up most were pictures, mostly of art installations that rivalled the wolf. Generally animals, unless the client asked for something specific. Wolves, lions, birds of all varieties. Even a dragon, one of the big Fereldan Frostbacks.

     Then there were the publicity photos. Not many, but what there were made him frown. The boy looked panicked, eyes wide and wild, while an older man in an obvious designer suit and thick grey hair wrapped an arm around the boys shoulders. Another search showed that this man was Daniel Arius, billionaire out of Tevinter that apparently 'discovered' Fenris. Varric wondered what the elf was doing here in Kirkwall, away from his benefactor.

     Varric stared at the screen, reading article after article before finally coming to a decision. He picked up his cell and punched in a few digits, waiting for an answer.

     “Good morning! My name is Varric Tethras and I'm hoping Anso was able to get a hold of you concerning our new future together.”


	4. Chapter 4

     Varric read the address on the slip of paper in his hand twice before approaching the garage. It was just on the Lowtown side of the border with Darktown, a rough and dirty neighbourhood. He reached into his jacket and fingered Bianca. Carry permit or not, he wasn't about to enter an area like this without his Beretta 9mm at his side. Not that he had to use her often.

     The side door to the garage was open to let in the air and Varric took a few minutes to visually scope out the place. To the untrained eye it was a jumbled mess. Piles of scrap metal filled boxes and wooden crates, while blow torches, and metal cutters of all sizes littered every available surface. Sparks flew and a heavy musical beat made his teeth rattle. But underneath it all, Varric could see the beauty.

     The wolf drew his eye first, though a half-finished dolphin jumping through rusted waves was a close second. To his right was the an almost completed Orlesian Man, arms and legs akimbo surrounded by a large wire rim circle. Through the sparks, Varric could see the elf working on some kind of crouching bird and even half-done he could feel the malevolence that Fenris seemed to be going for. _Kids got talent_ , he thought to himself, rapping loudly on the garage door to get the man's attention.

     Fenris' head whipped around, blow torch held out in front of him like a weapon. He hadn't heard anyone coming, though with his music going at full blast, he should hardly be surprised. A dwarf stood in the doorway, dressed in a silk Antivan suit and shirt and clearly appraising his work. This had to be his new agent. He turned off the torch and flipped the switch on the radio, plunging the garage into silence.

     “Hey there!” the dwarf called out, taking a step into his sanctum. “Name's Varric Tethras. You must be Fenris.”

     Fenris growled slightly. He was not comfortable with others in his space, but he knew he needed to play nice with this man.”Let us adjourn outside, away from the heat,” he suggested, anxious to get the dwarf outside.

     Varric took another wistful look around the garage before turning and stepping out the door, Fenris following close behind, closing the door behind him.

     “Okay, Fenris, I get it. No one in your personal space,” Varric chuckled. “I've dealt with a couple of artists before. I know what they can be like.”

     Fenris merely quirked a brow. This man was not what he would call stereotypical of the art community that he had dealt with so far. Varric Tethras seemed brash and too forward, unlike the average haughty art patron he had come to expect.

     “So,” the elf drawled,” you are to be my new agent, I suppose.” “That would be me,” Varric grinned, holding his hand out to shake. When the elf did not reciprocate, Varric tucked his thumb into his belt and eyed the man. “And you would be Broody.”

     Fenris' eyebrows dipped in consternation. “I do not brood.”

     “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Look, I brought your contract for you to look over and I have a line on a gallery show in two months, if you have enough pieces available to fill the floor.”

     Fenris stared at the dwarf, eyes wide. A show? He hadn't been a part of a show since Tevinter and...Dan. Could he handle another show? “Let me think about it. I'll get back to you. Do you need to see any more of my work or are the pieces in the garage enough?”

     “I'd love to see more if you're willing. Do you keep them at home?”

     “No.” Fenris bit the word off. He wasn't about to tell the dwarf that he basically lived out of his car, but it was as if Varric could read his mind.

     “You need a place to crash there elf? I rent out space near the Lowtown market and the basement's available. You want to come see it, we can always work the rent into your contract.” Varric chuckled. “Gives me incentive to make sure you sell, right?”

     Fenris thought about it for a moment. The idea of not having to live in the car was appealing, but he hadn't settled in one place for more than a few months before. He didn't want to get too comfortable and have Dan find him. Not again. But then his mind drifted to the girl. Nickie. She lived near the Lowtown market and the idea of seeing her again made up his mind for him. He turned to the dwarf and nodded.

     “Great!” Varric exclaimed. “You wanna follow behind me? I'll head over there now, show you the place, introduce you to the other renters.”

     Fenris sighed, but nodded again and headed to his car.

                                         *********************

 

     “Varric just called,” Nickie called from the living room. “He's bringing a potential renter to see the basement.”

     Anders grunted from the kitchen, sipping his third cup of coffee for the day. As long it was better than the last one that rented the basement, he was fine with it. Isabela was a great bartender at the Hanged Man, and a fun night if you were into that kind of thing. But she had had no idea what the words 'personal boundaries' were and had often woken him with blaring music- or worse, singing- scant hours after an interminable shift. She had decided that she preferred the ambiance at work and began renting a room above the bar, leaving the basement empty the last three months.

     This time he had every intention of being there when Varric brought over the potential renter. He'd get to put his two coppers in if it killed him.

     Nickie was sitting on the couch, foot propped up on a stack of floor pillows, channel surfing listlessly. Her laptop was open beside her, a half-finished website project queued up but basically ignored. She couldn't seem to concentrate on anything right now. Eyes the colour of jade kept invading her thoughts. White hair over dark skin, broken by twisting marks that appeared almost as scars on what little she could see of his neck and hands. She sighed, tossing away the channel changer and closing her eyes. There was no point in trying to forget them,so she may as well just enjoy the inner picture.

     “Hey,” Anders said softly, exiting the kitchen to approach the sofa. “Are you okay? Any pain?”

     “No, I'm good,” she responded, not opening her eyes. “Just thinking beautiful thoughts.”

     Anders smiled, taking up the controller before seating himself on the other end of the sofa. He loved seeing that wistful smile on her face, eyes closed to the outside world. It made her seem even younger, more innocent. But then he would feel like a lecherous paedophile for watching her and turn away. This time he turned to the television. Nickie had given up at an infomercial station and that had to change.

     “Anders, can I ask you a question?” Nickie said, head tilted to the back of her seat, eyes still closed.

     “Of course, Sweetheart. What is it?”

     “What did you think of Fenris?”

     Anders started, nearly spilling coffee in his lap. “F-Fenris? The guy that found you in the alley?”

      “Yes, silly man. That Fenris.” Nickie's lips turned up in a smile.

     Anders frowned. He didn't like him. He was too pretty, too lithe, too...much. Anders was jealous of the looks Nickie gave him, the way her mouth turned up at his name. The sparkle in her eyes when she spoke about him. “He's okay, I guess.”

      Nickie turned her head and opened her eyes, seeing the little moue of Anders' lips around the edge of his mug. She giggled. “It's okay if you're not as impressed as I am by him, Anders. He saved my ass, not yours.”

     “Is that all it is?” Anders asked, setting down his mug on the coffee table, then moving the laptop there as well so he could slide next to her. “Just a touch of hero worship?”

     Nickie giggled and rested her head upon Anders' arm, too short to reach his shoulder as she would have really liked. “What else could it be, huh? I barely know the man, and that's probably all it will ever be.”

      Anders frowned even as his arm wrapped itself around her shoulders to hold her tight. What else could it be indeed.

                                     **********************

 

  _Oh shit! It's the same place!_ Fenris thought to himself, parking behind Varric on the street. The house where the man and boy had exited, Nickie's brother and paramour. Did she live here, too? Could he handle it is she did?

     Varric was already out of his car and motioning for the elf to follow. Fenris sighed and girded himself for whatever may come, exiting the vehicle and pacing after the dwarf towards the door. It was not much more than a townhouse really, but had been retrofitted to look like a coastal beach house. The siding was dark wood panelling with thick brick columns holding a small upper veranda accessible by the bedroom upstairs. The front walk was bordered by rich red flowers that Fenris couldn't name, but gave the place a cheery vibe. Right away he spotted a few places where he could install small art pieces that would compliment the exterior of the house. He liked it.

     Varric let himself in the front door with a yelled greeting. There was a muffled answer further in, though Fenris couldn't tell if it was make or female. The dwarf smiled and waved for Fenris to follow, leading him past the small foyer, down the hall farther into the space. He spied what he believed to be the kitchen to his right but Varric moved so quickly that the elf had little time to really see it. The hall suddenly opened up into a large living area and Fenris' first thought was that a flea market must have gone out of business and the leftovers had migrated here.

     A Queen Anne style sofa with an extra high back sat in the middle of the space, with a thick reclaimed wood coffee table and end tables surrounding it. A stylish but worn wing chair sat to the sofa's right, while a dark leather armchair was to the left. There was a television, the only concession to modernity in the room, competing with a multitude of overflowing bookshelves. The walls were mostly white, except for one of unfinished brick. Even the throw rug on the floor was eclectic and worn. But all together, the room was welcoming and bright.

     Fenris felt at home.

     “Hey, guys. So I brought the guy to check out the space.” Varric said cheerfully. Anders stood first, turning to see who his friend had brought and stopped dead in his tracks. _How could this get any worse?_ Fenris stood there, stoic and silent, and Anders just wanted to throttle him. Instead he frowned, crossing his arms to his chest. Fenris' own brows dipped at this, unsure of how he had angered the man and in no mood to find out.

     The other figure from the sofa began to struggle to a standing position. Crutches pulled forward, then chocolate hair peeking over the edge. Fenris' breath caught. She lived here as well? What was he thinking, coming here? He might put her in danger. What if Dan came?

     “Fenris!” Nickie cried, trying to hobble her way closer to him. Without thought, Fenris glided up to her so that she didn't have to move. Nickie looked up into his face and he was thrilled that for once he was taller than someone. The dwarf didn't count, everyone towered over him.

     “Yes, Nickie,” he said softly, staring down at her. Her storm wracked eyes sparkled and he was drawn in, never wanting to surface.

     “You know this guy, Princess?” Varric asked, smile nearly cracking his face. He'd never seen Nickie so happy. And she was always happy.

     “This is the guy, Varric,” she replied, wobbling slightly until Fenris reached out to take her elbow and steady her. She grinned up at him and his own lips quirked slightly. “This is the guy that saved me from the muggers.”

     “You're kidding? Really?” he questioned, incredulous. “I couldn't write something this good!”

     “I know, right? You might start believing in the Maker otherwise.”

     “Real funny, Princess. So, Broody, you want to go check out the space?”

     Fenris never took his eyes from Nickie. “I'll take it.”

     “What? You don't want to see it first?”

     “No. I will take it. Write up your contract, dwarf and I will sign.” _Oh, Fenris, what do you think you're doing?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I made an ooops. What was supposed to be chapter 5 never made it in, so I'm fixing it. This is the /real chapter 5, what was chapter 5 is now chapter 6 and then there will be a chapter 7. Sorry about that.

     Nickie was dying to get in and help Fenris move his meagre belongings into the basement, but with a bum foot and crutches that was never going to happen, so she perched on the edge of the sofa, foot propped up on pillows, and waited impatiently for the moments when he walked into her field of vision. And he seemed to walk by more than was really necessary, only carrying one small box at a time when he could have easily carried more, stopping by her side to ask after her, bringing her the bottle of water that she had asked Anders to bring her. It made her giddy with anticipation for the next view.

     Before long he was finished and standing awkwardly beside the sofa so she smiled and patted the seat next to her. “Sit with me. Don't worry, I won't bite.”

     Fenris chuckled but did as he was bid, sitting stiffly, hands on his knees.

     “Relax! Come on, we'll talk all about our lives and get over this awkward stage,” she smiled. “Go on, ask me a question. Anything and I'll do my best to answer.”

    He looked at her for a moment, trying to decide if she was serious. When it seemed that she was, he thought about what to ask. “Um...all right. The men that I met at your bedside. One is your brother, I know, but tell me about them.”

     “Well, let's see. You're right about Carver. He's my brother, younger by a couple of years. Works as a mechanic down near the docks. Not the best place in the world but he's trying to get licensed to work on higher end models and get a job with a car dealer out in Hightown. He and his dog, a mabari named Nox, live on this floor with me.

     Anders is the blond that was here when you got in. Doctor Warden Anderson, but everybody calls him Anders. Lives in the loft upstairs. He could afford better- he's an ER doctor up at Grey Memorial- but he seems to like it here for some reason. He works horrible hours and doesn't nearly take care of himself properly, so don't be surprised if you catch me badgering him to eat or go to bed. When he's even here, of course.”

     Fenris sat and thought about what she was saying. “So he is a...friend?”

     “Yes. Why? Did you think he was a boyfriend or something? 'Cause I haven't had one of those in...well, ever really.”

     Fenris couldn't figure out why he felt so elated at that particular tidbit of news. Not her boyfriend. Not any boyfriend. He was so deep in thought over this, he didn't notice the grin spreading over her features.

     “Your turn!” she laughed. “So is Fenris your first or last name?”

     She knew right away it was the wrong thing to ask. His face became closed, a mask of indifference, eyes hooded. The little that he had begun to relax was gone. He sat so straight she was surprised his spine didn't lock that way.

     “I don't know.”

     It was said so softly that she wasn't sure he had even spoken at first. “You don't know? Why not?” _That's right, Nickie. Just stick your good foot in your mouth, why don't you?_

     “It is not something I wish to discuss at the moment,” he said, his tone clipped.

     “Yeah, sure. No problem.” Nickie tried placating. “You got another question for me?”

     Fenris thought hard about what to ask her next. He had so many questions, he didn't know where to start. “What is your full name?”

     Nickie grimaced slightly. “Nichola Abigaile Hawke. But everybody calls me Nickie, except Varric who calls me Princess. Mother says I was named for a couple of grandmothers or some such. I think she just wanted to name me something that sounded pompous and annoying.”

     “You do not get along with your mother?”

     “Hey!” Nickie laughed. “It's my turn to ask a question! But no, we don't get along. Not really.”

     Fenris shivered at the sound of her laughter, not a high pitched sound as he would have expected, but deep, melodic. “All right. Ask your question.”

     Nickie watched the elf for a moment. Nothing too personal. It seemed like that was a sore spot with him. “Okay. What do you do when you're not sculpting?”

     “You know I sculpt?” he asked, surprised.

     “Yeah. Donnic gave Carver your card and he showed it to me. The wolf is absolutely beautiful, by the way.”

     “Thank you,” he answered, ducking his head, unable to stop the slight flush of pride that suffused his cheeks up to his ears. Normally he took praise as though it were his due, but with her it seemed...special.

     Nickie saw the colour spreading, reaching the tips of his pointed ears and she suddenly had the irresistible need to touch them. She reached out, tracing a finger along the edge. He shuddered and leaned into the touch with a moan. _Oh my_ , she thought, feeling an answering flush begin much lower in her body than her cheeks.

     When Nickie dropped her hand, Fenris felt a pang of loss for a moment. It had been so long since someone had touched him there, just that brief caress. He coughed and straightened, trying to get a hold of himself. If he didn't, he would be bending her over the back of the couch before he gained any coherent thought. “I...I...um...I used to work as emergency operator until about four months ago. I needed to take a leave of absence for a while. I decided that switching to my art exclusively for a while was better than burn out. What about you? What do you do?”

    Nickie turned away, squirming slightly, hoping that Fenris couldn't tell how aroused she had become. “Officially, I'm a waitress over at the Hanged Man. Varric owns it, good place, great pay. For a bit of extra cash I design websites, mostly for friends. Nothing too fancy but I'm still learning. In the mornings I paint.”

     “Really?” Fenris found himself asking. “You paint?”

     “Yeah,” she answered, suddenly a bit shy. She didn't usually tell people about her hobby, but he seemed to just make everything just slip from her lips. “Mostly landscapes, fantasy ones with really bright colours and shapes.”

      “May I see?” She turned to see his face, and he seemed so earnest that she nodded.

     He helped her get her crutches under control and they proceeded down the hall towards the back bedrooms. When she opened the door to the room that acted as her studio he was taken aback.

     He wasn't sure what he expected, really. Maybe some washed out watercolours, a bit of talent but nothing to write home about. It was what he usually saw when a client said 'Hey! I'm an artist too!” But this? He almost believed at first he was looking at a blown up photograph, except that it was of a world that had never existed. Still half finished, in tones of red, orange and peach with smatterings of black and green, it spoke of a land in turmoil even though the scene itself was placid and calm.

     He looked around the room. The walls were completely white, with nothing adorning them to distract the eye. The only window, facing into the back of the property, had no curtain to filter the light. As a painter's studio, it was perfect. When he spotted a stack of canvases leaning against the wall, he immediately went to investigate. They were all as beautiful, as thought provoking as the first. While her subject matter and colour choices varied wildly, each one had you feeling something. In fact, there was a series of three using the same subject matter, but with such differentiated colours that they each made you feel a new emotion.

     While Fenris perused her paintings, Nickie hobbled her way to her artist's stool set up near her easel. Behind it, on her supply table, she reached for the tube of vitamin E cream she left there for when he hand got stiff. With all the work needed to use the damned crutches, the scar that filled the palm of her right hand had become tight.

     Fenris saw her struggling with the little cap and came over. “Let me,” he said, taking the tube from her and twisting the tiny plastic thing. She thanked him with a smile and, retrieving the tube, squeezed some into her palm. He immediately took the tube back from her, setting it aside and began massaging the cream into the skin.

     “What...What happened?” he asked cautiously, seeing the flickering of pain in her eyes.

     Nickie sighed, trying to force a smile that, for once, she really wasn't feeling. “Carver had a twin. A sister. Bethany. I was babysitting when there was a fire. I thought everybody had gotten out when I heard her screaming.” Her voice hitched and she closed her eyes, trying to block out the remembered smell of smoke and the feel of heat against her face, concentrate only on the soothing motion of Fenris' fingers in her hand. “I tried going back in, put my hand on the doorknob, but it was too hot and burned the skin. Still tried to fight my way in, but a neighbour grabbed me, wouldn't let me go. She died.”

     “I am sorry,” he said softly, reaching from her palm to her cheek, where the tears had begun to drip. She looked up into his emerald eyes and smiled. No superfluous endearments, no platitudes. Just three simple words, heartfelt and certain. They were perfect.

     “Yeah, well, sometimes the scar gets a little stiff if I work the hand too much, but a little cream clears that right up,” she said, trying to find her joviality again. “And I guess, since my day job is put on hold for a while, I'll have lots more time for painting, huh?”

     Fenris looked around the room once again. “Do you sell your art?” he asked.

     “Maker, no!” Fenris looked back at her in surprise, but she had turned to face the piece on the easel. “It's nowhere near good enough for that. No, this is just for me. Sometimes I'll give them to friends. Anders has a couple, Carver I think has three. If there's one you want go ahead and take it.”

     The elf was surprised. His sculpture wasn't something he did for himself. He did it to make money, to keep moving, away from Dan. It was something he found he was good at and so he used it. Sometimes he would have flashes, on his life before Dan and Tevinter, where he was drawing in a sketchbook, familiar faces just out of reach. Now he stayed away from pencils, paper, preferring the cold surety of metal. He wondered what it would be like to create something just for himself.

     Someday, when Dan was no longer a part of his constant life, he vowed to find out.


	6. Chapter 6

     Three days later, Fenris left early to get some work down on his latest commission, Carver had gone to the garage and Anders was on shift at the hospital. Nickie, relegated to the confines of the couch for the day, was _bored_!

     Nothing on TV held her interest, the internet was a bust. Finally she sighed and shut everything down. _Guess I'll get some practice in then. I'm all alone after all._ Eyes closing slowly, Nickie tried to make herself comfortable and hold her hand out before her. Almost a meditation of sorts, Nickie sat there, mind on the air around her hand, thinking only of what she wanted to fill it. Slowly, almost painfully,a small greenish light began to coalesce. A simple little spell wisp that began to bob and weave around her fingers.

     Nickie laughed. It had taken her forever to get this far. Something small and useful, but not the destructive powers of lightning or ice that she seemed to be able to cast without thought. Anders had been helping her, but his skills lay in other schools as well, so it was a sort of hit or miss sort of learning.

     This was the part of Nickie that very few knew about. Kirkwall's Special Forces would have her imprisoned- if she was lucky- in the blink of an eye if it was known. Carver knew, of course, as did Anders. And that was only because she had caught him healing a shaving nick he had given himself that morning. Maker's sake, not even Varric knew and she adored the crazy dwarf!

     More than anything, she wanted to tell Fenris. It seemed wrong that he didn't know this aspect of her. But, in the end, she'd really only known him a few days. No matter what her heart said, years of keeping her abilities hidden told her to wait.

     Carefully, she manoeuvred herself up off the couch and wobbled her way to her studio. She inwardly cursed the need to keep one's magic hidden. Anders could have healed this stupid foot ages ago if he'd just been able to practice openly. He had healed the majority of her bruises, on the other hand, and taken care of about a week's worth of bone knitting, but that could be explained away as just a proficient immune system and a quick healing body. Anything more, though, and there might have been questions.

     Settled on her stool, Nickie reached out and plucked her sketchbook off the nearby table and flipped to a new page. She let her mind wander as she picked up a pencil and began to quickly sketch lines upon the page. 'Stream of Consciousness Doodles' as she called it, her brain focusing on anything except what's on the page. This time, of course, her mind wandered to Fenris.

     The angular cut to his chin and jaw, the thick swath of white hair that hid his large emerald eyes. The sweeping curl of his beautiful tattoos. Luscious lips that she just wanted to take and nibble and lick.

     Nickie shifted, trying to ease the sudden ache between her legs. She tried changing the direction of her thoughts, focusing on his torso instead. Lithe and yet still amazingly strong. The other day, when she had tripped over Nox as he was coming out of Carver's bedroom, and he had swooped in and taken her in his arms, carrying her into the living room and depositing her gently on the couch without a bit of strain. Needless to say, the next time she was able to get away and go to her room, she had needed to change her underthings.

     Now she tried to imagine what the tattoos on his chest would look like. Judging by what was around his arms and neck, she pictured almost a living tree, with harsh branches that reached and curled. She wished she knew how, or even why, he had gotten them. They seemed to still bother him on occasion. Sometimes he would rub or scratch at them without thinking. But he was uncomfortable talking about them so she didn't pry. There were a lot of things he didn't really like talking about. His name for instance. He went by the moniker 'Fenris Blackfeather' but that was apparently not his real last name, just something he adopted so he could get a job and file his taxes. There had been some sort of incident when he was younger and he no longer remembered his childhood, which to Nickie was profoundly sad. As though his time of innocence had been stripped from him.

     For some reason, Nickie's thoughts drifted to his feet. He hated wearing shoes, only putting them on if he absolutely had to go out, and even then would wear flip-flops unless he was meeting a client. Last night, sitting in front of the television, she had watched as he flexed his toes, gripping and releasing at the rug. She didn't even think he realized what he was doing, and she found it adorable. It made her wonder what else he could do with his toes...and there went her underwear again.

     She sighed at herself and looked down at her sketchbook. There was Fenris, body turned away, but face in profile, eyes laughing, that small little tilt to the lips that spoke of humour deeply hidden, trying to get free. It was...absolutely perfect.

                                                   *****************

 

     Arainai's crow sculpture was finished, wrapped and boxed, ready for delivery, so Fenris was now focusing on drawing out the first concepts for the new commission. Some stupid bear or something. The client just wanted wild and big and fierce. The whole thing made Fenris want to chew iron ingots and spit out nails. Stupid people! Would it be so hard to just say 'I want this' and not make him guess?

      But no. Now he had to spend an afternoon drawing out multiple different concepts and hope that the client picked one and not make him go back and do it again.

     As he worked his mind drifted to Nickie. It scared him how much of his thoughts she filled. Strangely, doing groceries was the worst. Peaches in the produce section had him thinking of the soft texture of her skin, the smells of strawberries and vanilla had him hardening as they reminded him of her scent. And the display stand of dark chocolate fudge was the worst, so close to the colour and sheen of her hair. He ended up having to drive around for an extra thirty minutes just for things to calm down enough that he wouldn't embarrass himself when he saw her at home.

    He had spent the last three days staying close to home, close to her. He didn't want to leave her, wanted nothing more than to be close to her. But his clients wouldn't wait forever and he had a car to fix, so back to work it was.

     His cell phone rang and he answered without thinking. Usually he screened his calls but today he was kind of hoping that Nickie would call.

     It wasn't Nickie.

     “Hello, pet,” the voice purred and Fenris froze. _No. Not her._ “You are such a naughty boy, running away from us. What am I to do with you?”

    The feminine voice fairly dripped with oil and rancour and it took all he had not to throw the phone against a nearby wall. “What do you want, Hadriana?” he finally managed to growl.

    “Why, you of course. I've missed you terribly. So has the Master.”

     “Dan is not my Master!” he shouted, standing so quickly from his workbench that he knocked pencils, paper and tools flying.

     “Oh, lover, why do you deny the obvious,” she woman cackled over the line. “He will _always_ be your master. And when we finally come to fetch you, you will be reminded most harshly.”

     Fenris didn't realize she had broken the connection until the phone began to beep insistently in his ear. As calmly as he could, he touched the end button, collected his fallen tools and locked up the garage. Only one thought was circling through his mind. _Nickie_.

                                                  ********************

 

     When Fenris entered the house and didn't see her right away, he panicked. He didn't know why, it was rational, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. He tried the kitchen, living room, even her studio, but nothing. Finally he approached her bedroom. He knocked lightly but there was no answer and his heart leapt into his throat. Carefully, he twisted the knob and opened the door. He was worried, on edge, but this was still her private space and he didn't want to be seen as intruding.

     She was there, resting peacefully on the bed, a slight smile upon her lips, and Fenris released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. She was fine. Hadriana and Dan hadn't been here, hadn't harmed her. He turned to leave when he heard her move.

     “Fenris?”

     Her voice was sleep muffled and curious, and maybe just a little happy and it made Fenris glad. That someone would be pleased to see him was something he hadn't felt in a long time. He turned back and tried to smile for her. Which, of course, let her know right away that something was wrong.

     “Come here,” she said, patting the mattress beneath her lightly and sliding herself over to give him room. He sat on the edge of the bed but she pulled at him until he lay down next to her, face inches away. He had to fight the urge to reach out and kiss her, to pull her into him. Just being near her like this was heady.

     They lay like that, staring into each other's eyes for some time, until they drifted off in each other's arms.


	7. Chapter 7

     “What do you mean you couldn't finish the assignment?”

     Meredith Stannard had her back to her office, staring out the wall of windows at Kirkwall below. Her city was beautiful from so far above it. Clean and sterile, buildings shining white and gold and salmon in the light of the just setting sun. Hands clasped behind her back, uniform dark and crisp, thick blonde hair pulled back in a severe tail, she was the epitome of military discipline.

     Inside, though, she was a mass of turmoil and wrath, anger and bile. The officer behind her shifted self-consciously, sweating slightly through his uniform, cap gripped in twisting fingers. “Sorry, ma'am,” he muttered. “But Wessle got a little carried away and knocked her inna wall. We was waitin' for her to come to but some guy came in the alley and we had ta run. Wessle got beat up by the guy and we took 'im to the infirmary.”

     “And the girl?”

     “Went to the hospital for a reported mugging, ma'am. Concussion, stitches, broken foot.”

     Meredith turned and stared at the man before her, brows drawn. “Foot?”

     “Crabtree got a little carried away and stomped on 'er, tryin' to wake 'er up.” The man was sweating more profusely now and his cap would never return to it's original shape.

     “I see,” Meredith said with deceptive calm, sitting down at her desk and steepleing her fingers. Her desk was as clean and clear as her uniform, only her computer monitor filling the space. “Tell me of the Samaritan, Sargent Kerr.”

     The Sargent sighed in relief. Anything to get the attention off of him and his men. “Accordin' to the report 'is name is Fenris Blackfeather, some sculptor with some pretty big clients. Came out of Tevinter three years ago, not much available background before that. No known affiliation with the family before hand.”

     “Hmmm.” Meredith stared at the man, internally grinning as he began to fidget and fuss once again, pleased that the men at her command feared her so. The best way to have their respect as far as she was concerned. She was going to have to punish this failure, severely enough that they knew to do better next time. And there would be a next time. It would be so much easier if she could just make the three idiots Tranquil and be done with it, but of course, not being mages themselves, that was out of the question. Someday, though...someday.

     “Well, Sargent, you and your men will be on guard duty for the next ten day. Captain Cullen will be adding you to the duty roster and will decide your placement. I will be sure to recommend someplace...interesting. You will be reporting to me once again after the ten day, at which point I will have a new assignment for you. If you fail in that assignment, demotion will be looking appealing. Do I make myself clear?”

     “Yes, ma'am,” Kerr muttered to himself, trying desperately to replace his horribly twisted cap on his head, before saluting.

     “You are dismissed, Sargent,” she said, turning her attention to her computer, ignoring him as he marched away. _Idiots_ , she thought to herself. _I am surrounded by nothing but idiots._ Quickly she pulled out her keyboard tray from the desk and sped off an email to her Captain, explaining the men's punishment and where she would prefer they be sent. _If they survive guard duty at the sewer entrances, they'll think better of failing me again._

     Email sent, she pulled open her top drawer and , after giving the smooth little red stone tucked inside and soft touch, found her cell phone and touched a button. “Elsie? I am in need of as much information as you can get me regarding a Fenris Blackfeather formerly out of Tevinter.”

     “Of course, ma'am,” the emotionless voice on the other hand intoned.

     Meredith Stannard, smiled as she replaced the phone in the desk. Elsie was the perfect assistant as far as the Commander was concerned. Once upon a time, the woman was a mage, a seditionist purporting the evils of the Kirkwall Special Forces. Not any more. Now Elsie dealt with Meredith's correspondence, did her information gathering, and acted as a deterrent for other mages to try and speak out about their lot in life. Now if she could just make all mages Tranquil while letting them keep their magic, she'd have the perfect army. Mages that would follow command without question, burning or freezing or crushing who she chose, healing who she chose. It would prove to the Grand Cleric- and even the Divine- that she knew the will of the Maker and to listen to her.

     She sighed and began rubbing at the spreading pain from her temples. It had all started to go wrong with Malcolm Hawke. He'd been a genius really, basically running the IT department out from under his manager's nose. Had the Gallows running at a better digital capacity than even the Viscount's office. He'd made it possible for Meredith to find...well, to find what would eventually make her dreams come true.

     And but for a stupid glitch that had caused him to inadvertently see something he shouldn't have, he would be working for her still, though in a more Tranquil capacity. But no. Instead, the man had bundled up his family and run. Run far and wide and often, taking valuable information with him.

     They'd finally caught up with him in some pissant little town named Lothering, only to have him die in their attempt to secure the missing info. One of the children had died later, in a botched attempt to find it.

     But Meredith knew it was still out there. A deceptively innocent looking disk with every letter, every file, every little scrap of information she had gathered at the time of the little red stone.

    Suddenly her office door slammed open, the man she hated most in the world sauntering in. Supposedly her equal in rank, Orsino was really not much more than a placeholder until a more biddable First Enchanter came along, at which time she'd be making the annoying elf disappear.

     “Well, Meredith, your men are doing it again!” he cried, waving his arms about. “They've been harassing my mages to the point of a breakdown. One woman is refusing to leave her room until it stops.”

     The Commander glared at the man. What he was doing leading a faction in a military operation she had no idea. His uniform coat was undone, hanging loose and rumpled, shirt and pants both spotted and stained from something yellow and thick. His tie was completely missing and even his boots were scuffed. It was as though he had no concept of discipline at all. He'd even had the gall of letting his iron grey hair grow beyond regulation length, daring the Grand Cleric to censure him. Which she never would. The woman's ineffectuality was sometimes a curse as well as a blessing.

     Meredith turned her attention to her computer, effectively dismissing the allegations. “Your mage's discipline is your problem, First Enchanter” she said, brushing him off. She refused to call him by name. “Demote her and stick her in a cell for a while. She'll behave better then.”

     “She's a healer, and the problem isn't with her but your men. One of them had her cornered in a hallway yesterday and was preparing to rape her until another mage came by!” he yelled, waving even more frantically.

    _Damn_! Healers were too rare and too important to waste. “Do you have the name of the perpetrator, First Enchanter?” she sighed in exasperation.

     “No. He ran before I could be summoned.”

     “Well I certainly can't censure all of my men for the action of one, now can I?” she asked, a smile plastered to her face. All she wanted was to get this idiot out of her office so that she could take out and hold her little red stone and calm herself. Some days it was all she had that kept her from reaching out and strangling this moron.

     “But...I...Damn, woman! You know no one will come forward with names! They're too damned scared of reprisal!” Orsino was in fine form now, spittle flying, cheeks reddened and eyes flashing with anger and indignation. Once upon a time Meredith had thought him a good looking man. Thankfully, she had grown out of that delusion and seen him for the useless creature he was.

     “Perhaps it's not fear of the men, but fear of being found to have filed false reports that keeps them from naming names, First Enchanter.” Internally she seethed even as she smiled. Soon. Soon he would be as Tranquil as every other mage. It was the dream that kept her going.

     He threw his arms up in frustration, storming from the office and slamming the door behind him. She could hear him in the hall, practically screaming about her obstinance and she chuckled. Oh yes, it was definitely time to begin going through the personnel files and finding a good replacement for that one.


	8. Chapter 8

     Carver stood in his sister's doorway, unsure if he should be happy for Nickie or furious at Fenris. He had come home to find the house peacefully quiet- a situation quite unlike the norm- and had set off to find out what was wrong with his sister. Her bedroom door was ajar and, thinking that maybe she had decided to read in her room instead of the living room, he had nudged open the door to take a peek.

     Fenris lay on his back, face turned towards Nickie, while she lay sprawled half across his chest, their arms wrapped around each other, her bad foot cushioned by his shins. Carver smiled. They looked...happy almost. Like there was no one else in the world that the other really needed. And it was about damned time too! After Bethany...well, his big sister had never really let anyone else get close. Oh, she would laugh and tease and make friends, and even love them, but no one could ever get close enough to her to know all there was to her.

     Fenris though. Fenris just might.

     The phone in the kitchen began to ring and Carver hurriedly shut the door to keep it from waking them and rushed to get it. He always hoped it was Merrill calling, though more often than not it was his mother, calling to complain once again about having to live with her brother, Gamlen. Like it was really anyone's fault but her own.

     “Hello?” he panted, nearly dropping the handset in his haste.

     “Good evening,” a deep, cultured voice intoned, with a soft Tevinter accent. “Can I please speak with Fenris Blackfeather?”

     “Uh, sorry. He's, uh...busy right now,” Carver replied, twisting the phone cord up around a finger. Something about this guy set off alarm bells in his head and he decided to take a message instead of waking the elf.

     “But this is where I can reach him?”

     “I'll let him know you called. Can I get a name?”

     But the man on the other end just chuckled. “I'll try him again another time.”

     “Damn it, “ Carver muttered to the beeping of the dial tone.

                                ***********************

 

     “Your brother did not wish to wake us.”

     “Yeah, he's a sweety like that.”

     Nickie propped herself up on Fenris' chest, looking into his beautiful green eyes. She could do that all day, they sparkled and gleamed and made her stomach flutter. The edges of his lips were tilted up in a grin. An honest to goodness grin. It was infectious and made Nickie's grin all the wider. “Feel better for your nap?”

     “Yes, actually,” Fenris answered, somewhat surprised. Usually, when he was as upset as he had been after Hadrianna's phone call, he went out and hit someone, broke something, usually to the detriment of his hands and his bank account. Today, though, all he could think about was Nickie, and how she would make it all better. And in her own way, just by lying down with her and holding her, she had. He felt calmer now with her than he had since his first conscious thought.

     “Good,” she exclaimed, slapping a hand down on his chest. “Because if Carver's home that means it's about time to start making dinner and I'm starving.”

     She rolled off of the elf and struggled to move to the end and off of the bed, but Fenris reached out and caught her arm before she got very far. “Wait.”

     He turned and grabbed her crutches from the wall and handed them to her before reaching down and scooping Nickie from the bed. She started laughing and batting at his chest but he just smirked. At least until they reached the closed bedroom door. “Could you get that?”

     “Hard to swoop in to rescue the damsel in distress without a third arm isn't it?” she giggled.

     “Yes. It is. Please, could you get the door? You're not exactly the lightest thing I've ever carried.” He tried to keep up the indifferent mask but his lips insisted on quirking up in a smile.

     “I should leave you locked up in here with no dinner you bad boy,” she teased, turning the knob and pulling at the knob. “Teach you to call me fat!”

     “Never, my Lady. You are as light as the spring air.”

     Carver heard them laughing down the hall and turned towards them, thinking to himself that there was something he was supposed to tell Fenris, but then Merrill had started talking to him again over the phone and he completely forgot about anyone else in the house. He loved listening to the little elf talk. And she did. A lot.

     Nickie twiddled her fingers in a wave at her brother as Fenris set her down in a chair at the kitchen table then began rummaging through the cupboards. He moved as quietly as he could, padding around the room in bare feet, trying not to disturb the boy. It was obvious he was speaking with someone he cared about and Fenris didn't want to bother him.

     The kitchen was more well stocked than he would have thought, almost as good as a restaurant's. He moved from cupboards to refrigerator, finding everything he needed to make one of his favourites. Boneless, skinless chicken breasts were pulled from the freezer and set immediately in the microwave to defrost. Heavy cream, butter, fresh garlic and other sundries were put to simmer on the stove for a cream sauce and a large pot was filled with water and put on to boil for the pasta. Fettuccine Alfredo Au Pollo, simple but filling and always looked more complicated than it really was.

     Carver hung up with a promise to come visit the following day and came up to the stove to see what the elf was doing. He sniffed at the sauce then looked at Fenris in confusion. “Looks good, but why not just use the stuff from a jar?”

     Fenris scowled at the boy and brandished a spoon at him. “Stuff from a jar?” he sneered. “That... _stuff_ is crap. Completely inedible, which you will see once you taste the real thing. Now off with you. I have cooking to do.”

     Nickie laughed at Carver's face as he slowly backed away from the elf and he realized that she must not have seen it. Just for a moment, the barest of instants, the elf's green eyes had begun to glow the slightest of blues. Of course, Carver being Carver, he promptly forgot about the eery light the moment he made it to the living room and turned on the television, losing himself in an episode of the People's Court.

     “Did you really feel the need to do that to my brother?” Nickie giggled, watching as Fenris deftly manoeuvred himself around the kitchen. “He's still at the 'pop tarts for dinner' stage of life.”

     “Then he will be taught the wonders of real food, starting today. It has been too long since I have cooked a good meal.”

     “How long?”

     Fenris turned to face her, surprised at her bluntness, though he really shouldn't have been. Nickie had a way of cutting through a lot of the bullshit and getting straight to the point. He was finding that he liked that.

     He turned back to putting the pasta into the now boiling water to cook. “Almost a year. I was...living in the car until Varric took over my agent's contract and offered me the basement here.”

     “A year! Sweet Andraste, Fenris, why? What about in the winter? Didn't you get cold?”

     Fenris chuckled, stirring the sauce then removing the chicken from the microwave, chopping it down into strips and setting them to saute with some garlic, onion and green pepper. That's what blankets are for. A lot of them.”

     “What about meals? What did you eat without a kitchen for cooking?” Nickie was genuinely perplexed. Not matter how bad things had gotten after Father died and...Bethany, they'd never had to resort to living in their car.

     “If a sculpture sold I'd eat in diners or go to fast food places. When funds were low, well, it was pop tarts for dinner.”

     Her sounded so serious that it took Nickie a minute to realize that he was cracking a joke, using her own line. Laughing she stood and hobbled over to the stove, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “No more pop tarts for dinner for you. Full kitchen privileges from here on out, got it?”

     Fenris could do nothing more than nod, his face tingling from where her lips had touched, eyes wide. Slowly he reached up to touch the spot, certain it would be hot, burning. Nickie's own smile faltered and her eyes widened, caught by a look that could only be compared to a smouldering fire. His fingers reached out to cup her face and pull her closer and watched his lips moving towards her, tongue darting out to moisten her own.

     Fenris saw the little pink tip of her tongue and stopped. How could that little thing look and feel so damned erotic? He wanted nothing more than to lick and suck at those lips, that tongue, to feel it under his teeth, to slip his own tongue inside her mouth and taste her. He was close, so damned close.

     “When's dinner going to be ready?”

     Nickie and Fenris both jumped apart, whirling to face the doorway, though in Nickie's case she lost her balance and had to be rescued from falling by Fenris' strong arm about her waist, which he promptly dropped the second she was upright again.

     “Argh!” Nickie growled, grabbing a nearby dishcloth and throwing it at her brother's face. “Why do you always have to have the worst bloody timing?”

     Carver grinned widely, happy to see his sister so flushed with embarrassment. At least, he really hoped it was just embarrassment, because flushed in other ways was just something he didn't want to know about. “It's a talent, Sis. Just a talent.”

     Fenris turned back to the food, grumbling some rather inventive swear words involving little brothers he'd never had call to use before.


	9. Chapter 9

     One of the wonderful things about the house Nickie lived in was the sun. There was always somewhere sunny to lounge in, dawn to dusk. In the morning, as the birds were just starting to really begin making a nuisance of themselves with their chirping, sometimes Nickie liked to pull out a blanket and a book to read in the small plot of grass that wasn't taken with her tiny vegetable garden in the back. By mid to late afternoon, if she wasn't working, she liked to fuss and care for the flowers in the front. She had had tulips at the beginning of the season, to be replaced with lilies and hibiscus as the summer months dragged on. There was even a big bush of 'four o'clock' at the side of the house and morning glories that grew along the walls like ivy. Everything was bright and vibrant and alive.

     This afternoon she was working with the vegetables, weeding and picking green beans, headphones in her ears and her mp3 player blasting 30 Seconds to Mars. Perched on her knees at an awkward angle because of the cast, she bobbed her head as she worked, smiling away. Today was a really good day.

     This morning Nickie had woken to find the most beautiful gift she had ever seen on her nightstand, a single red rose. But not just any rose, no. One wrought completely out of metal, cut and soldered carefully to look as real as one from the ground, sprayed with just a hint of red to give it life. It glistened in the sun as though it really were alive and when she brought it to her nose, she didn't smell the tang of metal, but the soft sweetness of live plants.

     Anders, having just gotten home from another overly long shift, had taken one look at her gift and scowled into his coffee, then rumbled about a need for sleep and gone up to his room. Nickie worried for him most days. He almost never slept a full eight hours, rarely ate, and even then it was more likely to be fast food or something thrown in the microwave. Maybe with Fenris here, she could pack up leftovers of the wonderful things he cooked and send them with the doctor for lunches. When she had been placing the flower in one of her prized carnival glass vases, Carver had come up behind her and teased about her 'boyfriend'. She had hit him- hard- on the arm then hobbled carefully back to her studio to place the beauty near the window, as though it really did need the light.

     She had yet to see the man himself today, having left extra early for his garage studio before a planning meeting with Varric for his first show. Nickie was so excited for him, to be able to show off all the pieces that he really liked to make, not just the stuff that was commissioned and didn't really speak about his character at all. And maybe someday, long in the future and far away, she might even be able to show off a few of her own pieces. You know, when she got better.

     When a shadow moved into her line of sight she gasped in surprise and twisted, falling off her knees to her ass because of the odd angle caused by her foot. Ripping out her earphones she looked up at who had come into the yard.

     “Oh, Sweet Thing! Look at your poor foot,” she woman cooed, bending down low enough to flash an impressive amount of deep brown tit.

     “Isabela!” Nickie exclaimed, throwing her arms around the buxom woman and hugging her tightly. “When did you get back? How is your mother? Did you love Rivain? Was it hot?”

     The woman laughed, a throaty chuckle, and ran her fingers through Nickie's hair. “Well, damned if I didn't miss you, Sweet Thing. I got home last night, my mother is my mother and that's all that needs said about that. I love visiting Llomeryn but would never want to stay there and it was so hot I rarely wore clothes. But then again, when do I ever.”

     Nickie pulled back, slapping the woman playfully on the arm then pulled her in for another hug. “Maker I missed you! Hasn't been nearly as much fun this past month. Norah and Corff are great but they just don't pull in the people to the bar that you do. Varric's been all grumbly about the numbers which makes them grumbly, which makes me just want to go home. I can get grumbly out of Carver whenever I want, I don't need it at work.”

     Isabela laughed and sat back on her butt in the grass next to Nickie and leaned into her. Isabela had always been very touchy feely, even before she discovered the power of sex over people. “So tell me all about what happened to have you all gimpy on me.”

     Nickie sighed, snuggling into her friend, and launched into the 'tale of the alley attack', as she had begun calling it in her head. She could feel the myriad emotions running through Isabela's head as she spoke, but was surprised when, at the end, her only comment was, “Tell me about Fenris.”

     On that Nickie could go on forever. What he did, how he spoke, what he looked like, what he smelled like. The fact that he could cook and that he was an amazing artist. Isabela chuckled at the enthusiasm coming from her friend. She'd never heard Nickie go on about a guy like this, ever. It made her heart warm.

     “Okay, Sweet Thing. Bring him to the Hanged Man tonight. I'm working the bar and I really want to meet him. Not to mention it's Friday so the dance floor will be open and you can groove with him to your heart's content.”

     “Um, Isabela, broken foot. Kinda makes grooving a little difficult.” Nickie laughed.

     “Oh come on! Use your imagination! He can cuddle you on the dance floor, you can sway together, do all that sexy stuff, you know.”

     Nickie shook her head with a smile. “All right, I'll see if he wants to come. But I make no promises.”

     “Oh, Sweety,” she purred. “Promises, and the promise of promises, are what life is all about.”

                                           ******************

 

     “So, where is it you wish to take me?” Fenris asked, sitting on the edge of Nickie's bed, hands dangling between his knees. There was a muffled reply from behind her dressing screen. “Pardon?”

     There was the sound of a slight struggle punctuated by a giggle. “I said we're going to the Hanged Man.”

     “But I just spent the entire day there,” he sighed in exasperation.

     “No. You spent the entire day with Varric in the office going over contracts. We are going to the Hanged Man to drink and dance and have fun.”

     “Dancing?” he asked incredulously. “And just how are you supposed to dance tonight.”

     Coming out from behind the screen, Nickie waved her new accessory at him, a can adorned with a multitude of hair ribbons, winding up the pole and ending in a splash of streamers at the handle. “I've been upgraded! And with you there to hold me up, all will be perfect.”

     Fenris stared at her, eyes wide. “Yes, perfect,” he muttered, unable to pull away from watching her. Nickie was...well, beautiful was the only word that really sprang to mind. She wore a simple white tank top adorned with an abstract representation of flowers paired with a red cotton skirt that draped all the way to her feet. A simple tie-up sandal peeked out from beneath the skirt along with the edge of her walking cast and she jingled with little silver bells adorning her bracelets and earrings, like those worn by Rivaini bellydancers. Her hair had been wound up into a loose bun, tendrils escaping at the sides and neck, held up by nothing more than a paintbrush shoved through it.

     “Absolutely perfect.”

     Nickie blushed under his scrutiny. He was damned sexy himself, in black skintight tee, jeans and hightop sneakers. The dark colour contrasted so beautifully with his hair and tattoos that Nickie couldn't help but stare at him just as boldly.

     He stood and approached, offering his arm. “My lady?”

     Nickie giggled and tucked her hand into the bend of his elbow, steadying herself with the cane. “Why certainly, sir. Let us be off.”

     After eight in the evening on Friday and Saturday nights, the Hanged Man went from Lowtown eatery and bar to the best place to hear up and coming bands and dance to your heart's content without a drink minimum or ticket sales. It was packed with college kids and struggling artists and blue collar workers looking to blow off steam to the pounding beat of the band onstage. Every door and window was thrown wide open to let in the last of the waning summer sunlight, and bodies were undulating to the music both inside and out on the side patio.

     Fenris was nervous. He never did well in crowds like this, but Nickie was pulling him along, straight to the bar, where he could just see the top of her brother's head amongst the crowd. As they approached he realized that the main group filling space at the bar seemed to be together and all friends of Nickie's.

     Carver waved at him, happy to see the elf, his arm draped over the shoulder of a small woman, elvehn, with dark hair tied up in small tails and intricate tattoos on her face. Varric and Anders were seated together facing the bar and laughing with an outlandish woman with dark Rivaini hair and skin, glittering gold piercings and enough in the way of tits that her shirt looked to ripping down the centre from the strain. Detective Hendyr was slowly nursing a beer and smiled at the two of them, the red-head next to him looking stern and just a little disapproving at the crowd.

     “Sweet Thing! You made it!” the bartender called and Nickie pulled Fenris even closer.

     “Isabela, grab me a diet Pepsi? And no slipping booze in it. A sealed can if you please,” Nickie asked with a smile.

     “One of these days I will get you plastered, Nick. You know I will. And it will be glorious,” Isabela purred, pulling a can from a nearby fridge and passing it to her.

     “Nope. It will be me making a complete ass out of myself and then passing out in the middle of the floor,” Nickie laughed, taking the can and placing it on the bar. “Okay, so guys. This is Fenris, my guardian angel. Fenris, the guys.”

     They were staring at him. He could feel his fingers growing cold and clammy, his face heating with a faint blush. People made him nervous, especially when they wouldn't stop staring.

     “So, anyway, the little dark haired one is Carver's girlfriend, Merrill. Tall, dark and busty is Isabela. If you find any lost underwear in the basement of the girly variety is probably hers. She had that room before you. She will spend the next several weeks trying to figure out the colour of your underthings. Don't tell her, make her work for it. Of course you know Varric, and you've met Anders. I think you also met Donnic, since he's investigating my mugging, and this is his wife, Aveline. She's like family, has been for years.”

     Everyone kind of talked over each other, saying their hellos, then came the inevitable awkward quiet as they tried to figure out what to talk about. Nickie took the opportunity to crack open her pop and take a swig, smiling at the bunch of them. And, of course, when Isabela's first guess at colour was black, Nickie had to laugh. Especially when Fenris answered no.

     As the group made small talk, Nickie pulled Varric aside. “Is the upstairs patio open tonight?”

     “You know nobody goes dancing upstairs. But for you, anything, Princess.” Varric said, patting her on the hand.

     “Good. I want to show Fenris the garden while there's no one up there to distract.”

     “What about the band?” he asked. “Any good?”

     Nickie stopped and listened for a while, slowly beginning to tap her fingers against the bar to the beat. “Not bad. A little heavy on the bass for me, but good for a Friday night crowd. I'd probably bring them back again.”

     “Thanks Princess,” the dwarf replied, making a mark in one of the notebooks he always kept with him. “I can always trust your judgement on this shit. Now go, dance with your elf. Have fun.”

     Nickie laughed and kissed the top of his head,” Thanks, Varric.” She turned, taking Fenris' hand back in hers. “Come on! We need to dance.”

     Sudden panic filled Fenris' eyes and Nickie had to laugh. “It'll be okay, I promise. A song or two and then I want to show you something.”

     Fenris looked from this tiny little woman with the cane and the broken foot, then out into the masses that filled the restaurant, grinding away to the music and each other, and with all that his nervous swallow was still audible.

     “I am going to regret this. I can feel it.”


	10. Chapter 10

     “Isabela, I need a bottle of red wine- the good stuff, not the crap you normally serve to the yuppy-wannabe's- ,two wine glasses and another can of soda.”

     Nickie was leaning as far over the counter as she could, using her cane as leverage and Isabela rolled her eyes with a smile. “And whose paying for this, Sweet Thing? The good stuff's from Tevinter and costs a pretty penny.”

     “Put it on Varric's business account. Fenris is one of his new artists, he can write it off.”

      The Rivaini laughed, a deep sound that shook, well, everything. Many bar patrons stopped mid-sentence to watch. “You got it. And how will you be getting all of this to your final destination? You've only got the one hand free with that stick and all.”

     “I will take it,” a velvet voice rumbled.

     Nickie shivered in delight. Fenris had come up behind her, placing his hands lightly upon her waist to help her down off of her tip toes. His hands were so warm, tight and strong against her, solid. They made her feel safe, which was odd considering how short a time they had really known each other. Maybe it was because the first time they had encountered each other, he had been saving her ass. Nickie didn't know, and really she didn't care. It was the way it was and she enjoyed it while she could. The way her life usually ran, this would all end soon enough.

     Nickie grabbed the wine and glasses and shoved them into Fenris' hands, then reached for her soda can and cane. “Take these and follow me, handsome. I've got something to show you.”

     The elf seemed surprised, but nodded and trailed behind Nickie as she led him to what appeared to be a blank wall off in a far corner near the stairs leading up to the offices. She rested her cane against the wall for a moment as she used her fingers to deftly search for...something, face lighting in a smile when she found it and he felt more than heard a short click over the pounding beat of the music.

     Triumphantly, Nickie pulled open a door hidden in the wood work of the wall, ushering him around her and shutting it behind them. “This access is closed during dance nights. Can't have a drunken idiot fall off the roof now can we?”

     Fenris snorted. Best thing to happen to a drunken idiot, he thought to himself. He let Nickie take the lead once more, following sedately as she manoeuvred up the small staircase. Or, closer to the truth, watching her ass as she climbed in front of him, feeling heat pool in his groin as he did. “I am going straight to the Void.”

     “What was that, Fenris?”

     Fuck! “Nothing, Nickie. Just...musing out loud.” Fenris could feel the heat now creeping up his cheeks and the tips of his ears and wondered how long he could last before the blood that was going everywhere but to his heart would keep him alive.

     She smiled and nodded, turning to open the door at the top of the stairs, pushing through and turning to look at him. “Welcome to my favourite place at the Hanged Man.”

     Fenris crested the last step and stopped, looking out around them. It was a mid-sized patio, about ten small tables around the perimeter, chairs turned upside down on the table tops and umbrellas furled and tied closed. But what caught his attention, and Nickie's smile, was the garden.

     And that's really what it had to be called. Not a water feature, though there was a small waterfall near the centre of the mass, and not planters, though really that's what they were. No, this was a lifeform all it's own.

     Everything used to hold the plant life was recycled from something else. Wooden crates from liquor deliveries, the drawers of an old dresser, a plethora of wicker baskets and even an old guitar with the front face removed. The whole thing didn't look like it should work together, and yet it did, filled with a riotous amount of colour and succulent greens, even fresh herbs and mosses. Upon closer inspection, Fenris realized that the water feature was actually made from pieces of an old toilet, re-purposed for beauty and to water the plants.

     Struggling slightly, Nickie wrangled a couple of chairs down from a table near the door and, taking the wine and glasses from Fenris' now lax fingers, poured wine for the elf and soda for herself. Sitting, she smiled at the man. His shock at the piece was palpable and she loved it. Even though she had planned and done a fair bit of the work on the project, the first few times she had come up and seen it she was blown away. It had turned out so well, especially with the flowers in bloom.

     She rubbed at her hand as she watched Fenris, now circling the garden and taking in all it's intricacies. Her scar was starting to stiffen up a little and, of course, she'd forgotten her cream in her studio again. She had another jar in her locker near Varric's office but she just didn't really feel like going back down to fetch it. It could wait, this was much more important.

     Fenris finally wound his way around the entirety of the garden and came back to the table. “It's beautiful,” he said softly, a touch of awe in his voice. “You did this?”

     “Well, Merrill and I. She's a dab hand with plants, can make a desiccated rose bush come back to life with just a few weeks of care.” Nickie rubbed at her palm. “I was basically just the muscle on this particular project.”

     Chuckling, Fenris sat next to her and took her hand, beginning to massage the scar tissue there. “I highly doubt that, Nickie. I can see your influence here, just as on the plants at the house.”

     She sighed softly at that. 'The house' not 'home'. Admittedly, he hadn't really been there all that long, but she had her hopes. “I'll take that as a good thing, thanks.” She looked away from those beautiful green eyes that reminded her so much of her garden to look over the patio. “I love coming up here after closing or in the morning before customers start coming in. It's calming and peaceful. I even brought my paints up once and tried to capture the plants and everything on canvas. It's in the studio somewhere...I think.”

     “I would like to see it.”

     “Really?” She knew her voice squeaked in her surprise that someone, especially an artist like Fenris, would want to see her art. “I mean, it's not very good, just something I did on a whim.”

     “If it's anything like the pieces that I have already seen, then it will be beautiful.”

     Nickie peered at him, blushing furiously as he continued to rub at her hand, though by now the tissue was as loose as it was likely to ever get. She was having a Void of a time understanding the elf. Sometimes he was like this, attentive and kind and almost craving to touch and be touched in return. And others he seemed standoffish and cold, holding himself apart from the people around him. Usually after dealing with difficult clients or, on at least one occasion, after speaking with Anders. Something about the doctor turned him off and vice versa, though thankfully they spent very little time in each other's company. And, of course, when they did, Nickie got the wonderful job of referee.

     They ended up spending most of the evening up there on the roof, only coming down when Isabela called up that they were locking up.

     “Guess it's time to head home, huh?” Nickie asked with a grin. While they hadn't really spoken much of Fenris' life before coming to Kirkwall, he had gone into detail about some of the wondrous places he had visited in the recent past. Seheron, Antiva, Rivain, as well as his plans to someday see Nevarra and Orlais, maybe even Fereldan, which of course had Nickie extolling the virtues of her homeland, and joking about it's other...eccentricities.

     Fenris stood and offered her his arm, ignoring the empty wine bottle and glasses. Nickie marvelled at the elf's ability to hold his liqueur seeing as how the entire bottle had been imbibed while she had stuck to soda. She stood a little more slowly, adjusting her grip on the cane, happy for it's stabilizing presence.

     She slid her hand onto his arm and leaned into his shoulder when he covered it with his own. This is perfect, she thought to herself as they descended the stairs. I never want it to end.

     Which, of course, was nothing but a pipe dream.

     As they opened the hidden door, the front entry burst open, men pouring in brandishing hand guns and knives, screaming for everyone to get on the ground. Even with all of her friends in attendance, they were sorely outnumbered. But they were not outgunned.

     Varric was smiling, Bianca out at his side. “We're closing up now, boys. Might want to try again tomorrow night.”

     “Up against the wall, dwarf, or there's gonna be consequences,” one of them growl low in his throat.

     Nickie paused for a moment. It was a Tevinter accent, much like Fenris' own though nowhere near as cultured. And judging by the elf's suddenly stiff countenance, she guessed that he had noticed.

     “Don't think so,” Varric continued. “See, this is a well protected establishment and we don't take real kindly to slavers coming in and demanding things.” So Varric had noticed as well. Good. And going by the dense feel of magic in the air, Anders and Merrill had noticed as well.

     Nickie prepared an ice spell under her breath, readying herself to join in the Hanged Man's defence and stepping just slightly ahead of Fenris, which he definitely didn't seem to like. But Nickie knew that, in the end, he was the only one without a weapon here. Isabela had two fairly long knives behind the bar with her, ostensibly for cutting limes and such but really for cutting rowdy patrons. Varric, of course, had Bianca and both Aveline and Donnic had their service revolvers. Though Ave was going to have a crap load of paper work to slog through in the morning if they were forced to fire. Carver had grabbed the bar's baseball bat, used by the other bartenders that weren't comfortable with Isabela's knives.

     Anders, Merrill and Nickie were mages. They were always armed.

     “We just came for the elf,” the man said, flicking his head towards Fenris. “Nothin' need happen to the bar. But the slave comes with us”

     Nickie's eyes widened when she heard Fenris growl behind her and felt the faint pull of her magic through her fingers. She turned to look at him and couldn't stop the gasp.

     He was glowing. Really and truly glowing a beautiful blue that seemed to seep from his markings. She could feel the power behind them and knew that they had to have been made with some sort of magical property, lyrium most likely. How he had survived, let alone with his sanity intact, was a miracle that she would most definitely be enquiring about later. “I am not your slave!”

     It was as though that were the go signal, slavers rushing them, magic released, bullets flying. Isabela jumped the bar and waded in, slicing anyone that got too close. Carver almost seemed to be smiling at the carnage, foregoing swinging the bat at anything other than heads. Merrill was doing her best to put them to sleep, allowing Aveline and Donnic to pull out zip-strips to cuff their wrists for arrest, while Anders and Nickie used ice to freeze their opponents in place.

     But Fenris, oh that beautiful elf, was plunging his hands into the slavers' chests and removing...something Nickie didn't even want to contemplate. His arms were covered in gore, blood splashed across his face and chest, making his feral smile all the more frightening. When the last body fell at his feet he turned to Nickie, and where she thought her own reaction would have been bad, his seemed even worse.

     “You are a mage.”

     It was said with such cold hatred that Nickie was taken aback and both Carver and Anders moved in closer to her sides.

     “Yes, Fenris. I'm a mage.” She said it softly, as though speaking to a wild animal.

     “I...I need to leave.”

     She watched him as he stumbled out, rubbing at his face with bloodstained hands. She prayed to the Maker that he returned to the house and cleaned up before going far. It wouldn't do for him to be arrested now, even if Aveline and Donnic could get him out within hours.

     “Good riddance,” Anders grumbled, rubbing lightly at Nickie's back. “What in the name of Andraste's knickers was that that he did?”

     “I don't know, Anders. But I think Fenris and I are going to have to have a long talk before all this is done,” she whispered softly, leaning into her friend.


	11. Chapter 11

     He knew he had to face her, confront her with what he saw, but, Fenris could admit to himself, he was just too damned scared.

     He had spent the last two days sleeping in his car once again, his days working on project after project, trying not to think about everything that had happened. Slavers had come for him, which meant that Dan knew where he was. And if he knew, he would send more which would put everyone in danger.

     Including Nickie.

     Not that Nickie needed protecting, apparently. She was a mage. A Maker forsaken mage! No, he chided himself, not forsaken. Nothing about Nickie could be forsaken by the Maker, mage or not. He thought back to the beginning of that night, how beautiful she had looked in her long red skirt and simple tank, how she had smiled and laughed, dancing to the music. How happy and proud she had been while showing him the rooftop garden. Their hours together, listening raptly as he spoke of all the places he had seen and the enthusiastic way she had extolled on the virtues of Fereldan.

     He wanted to be angry, to hate her for being a mage, or worse, not telling him, keeping it a secret. But then, when you considered how he reacted, could he really blame her? She, and all of her friends, had jumped to his defence and he had thrown it right back in her face. Then he'd run away like a frightened child to do exactly what he was doing now- sitting on the floor of his work space, back to the wall in the corner, ignoring every call on his cell and brooding.

     Finally he shook his head and forced himself up. Not tonight. If only to be able to have a hot shower and sleep in his own bed, Fenris had to go to the house and face...everything.

                                               *************

 

     Anders and Nickie were sitting upstairs on the balcony of his room, over looking the front of the house. The sun was shining, bright and warm over them as they curled together on a lounge chair, Nickie a small bundle in his lap. While upset at how badly she was taking the elf's reaction to her magic, Anders couldn't help but feel glad that Fenris had fucked up so damned badly. Any excuse to hold Nickie against him, to kiss her cheeks and pet at her hair. To lean in and breathe deeply of her hair,sandalwood and oranges and something distinctly Nickie. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, the skin soft and warmed from the sun and she sighed into his chest. Thank the Maker he had the time off. He had no clue what was going to happen when he went back in for his shift in the morning.

     “Anders?” she said softly, curling her fingers up in his shirt, bunch to soft cotton tee in her hand before releasing and smoothing it down again. “What's wrong with me? Why does this hurt so much?”

     He tightened his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, Sweetheart. It hurts because you opened your heart to someone that didn't deserve it and he stomped on it.”

     Normally, a statement like that would have had Nickie incensed and hitting him. Instead she attempted to burrow even deeper, if that were even possible, and letting a soft sob escape. I guess I deserve it. I didn't really know him all that well, after all. I just...I guess I should have showed him what I really was before then, huh?”

     “Forget about him. We'll see if we can get Varric to evict him or find him somewhere else. If he's got slavers chasing him, we don't want them coming here, now do we?”

     Nickie lifted her head to look Anders in the eye, showing the first real fire in days. “No! We can't force him out of his home, and I don't want him having to go back to living in his car. We'll just muddle through and see if we can maybe get an alarm system or something.”

     Anders sighed, leaning back and rubbing lightly at Nickie's back. “We'll talk to Varric and figure it out, okay love?”

     “yeah, okay.” She settled for another moment before struggling out of Anders' arms and reaching for her cane. “I need to head back downstairs and find something for dinner.”

     “You're not cooking, are you?” Anders asked in mock wariness.

     Nickie grinned, though it was still tinged in sadness. “Thank you ever so much for your vote of confidence, but no. Something out of a can most likely. Carver's staying at Merrill's tonight and it'll just be the two of us. More than likely.”

     Anders smiled at the idea of it being just the two of them. And he remained smiling right up until the moment Fenris pulled up in the drive. He watched from his high vantage as the elf's shoulders bowed upon looking at the front door, his head dip to stare at the ground instead and felt just a touch of glee at the elf's discomfort and, what he hoped was, shame. Serve him right, the doctor thought to himself. You should feel guilty about treating Nickie the way you did, you bastard.

                                               *************

 

     She never heard Fenris come in, plodding around the small kitchen preparing a bowl of chicken noodle soup for the microwave then moving on to a couple of cheese sandwiches. Not grilled cheese, mind you. She didn't trust herself with anything that complicated. Not today.

     The elf stopped in the doorway, watching her. Even in this depressed state she was beautiful, unconventional and striking. She plodded more than walked and had dressed to cover herself in layers, oversized sweat pants rolled at the cuffs and obviously one of Carver's tee shirts that hung on her tiny frame, armour against the world. Her hair was tied messily at the nape of the neck, more than likely not having seen a brush in two days, and was even just a little bit greasy. Instead of detracting from her beauty, it gave her a sense of lost innocence that mad her even more desirable, as though she needed a person to swoop in and take care of her. His gut churned at the idea that that was his fault.

     She turned and, spotting him the door frame, nearly losing her balance, slipping against the counter before she could right herself. Not that it mattered, as Fenris had leapt forward to catch her about the waist and was now so close that she could see the flecks of gold in his emerald eyes. They were blown wide with surprise and concern and suddenly all the pain she'd been feeling for the past two days was gone. He was here, it was all that mattered.

     “Hi,” she whispered, trying to smile while gripping the counter to keep from running her fingers through his hair.

     “Hello.” His voice was low, rough, as though he'd overused it or hadn't used it all while he'd been gone. Flushing slightly, he pulled back, allowing Nickie to straighten herself and surreptitiously set herself to rights. She pulled at Carver's shirt, trying to hide the fact that her nipples were now attempting to poke holes through the thin fabric and flushed a deep red when Fenris' eyes immediately followed the path of her fingers.

     “So I guess we need to talk, huh?” Nickie tried for flippant, but failing miserably.

     Fenris nodded, face closing down to what she called his 'Maker do I hate this' mask, cold and impersonal. It hurt even more that he would use that mask with her.

     Together they moved to the wooden kitchen table that took up most of the eating alcove. Nickie grimaced, trying to wedge herself into a chair too close to the wall, Fenris having sat at the head of the table, free to stand and leave easily. While too big for the space, the reclaimed wooden door bolted to dining table legs and covered with a sheet of glass was the perfect size for the amount of food and dishes that ended up piled there on a nightly basis. And, to be honest, Nickie loved the rustic charm of it. In their small kitchen with it's bright, mismatched tiles and colourful paint layers and depictions of flowers on the walls, the table just seemed to fit.

     Fenris sat at the table, leg bouncing beneath with excess adrenaline, fingers drumming upon the glass. He didn't know where to start, or even who should be starting. He hadn't felt this nervous since he first conceived of the idea to leave Dan, when he realized that the contract that he had signed was not for the prospect of selling his art but to place him into slavery. The early days of not knowing who he was and unable to read even the simplest of children's books, let alone a complicated legal contract.

     “So I guess you know-”

     “About what happened-”

     They both suddenly started speaking, words overlapping and interrupting each other, then halting just as quickly.

     Nickie laughed nervously. “Okay, one at a time, right? You go first.”

     Fenris looked at her with a bit of a sheepish grin, though it didn't last, closing down once again. “I...This is very difficult for me. I have never...never told anyone this in its entirety, but for the safety of you and the others that live in the house, I feel that I should. You can then decided if you wish for me to remain.” Nickie opened her mouth to protest but he raised his hand to ward her off. “No. Let me tell it first, while I still have the nerve.

      I have no recollection of my life before ten years ago. I woke in incredible pain in a private clinic in Tevinter, run by a magister named Daniel Arius. I couldn't remember my name, my age, if I had family, nothing. My body was a mass of screaming pain and I was covered in these damned markings.” Fenris laid his hand on the table, palm up, flexing his fingers. “Dan...took care of me, nursed me back to health. I felt...obligated to him. One day he found me sketching on a piece of paper napkin with a stub of charcoal I had found and the next thing I knew he was putting a contract in front of me, telling me that I would be a great artist and he wanted to sell my work. I was shocked and elated to say the least. That this man that had cared for me thought I had real talent made my head swell.

     I signed his contract without reading it. I couldn't, having forgotten how, or maybe never knowing . And that night we became lovers. It was...unpleasant, but I thought I was obligated. And that maybe I loved him. I did anything and everything that he wanted, even if it was painful or degrading. And he took care of me, found buyers for my art, got me into metal work. There were galas and parties and it was a very heady experience.

     I didn't learn that I had indentured myself to him until I asked about my cut of the sales. I had signed it all over to him, in line with Tevinter slavery law. He literally owned me and everything that I produced within Tevinter. I had stupidly signed my entire life away.”

     He was drumming the fingers of both hands on the table now, both legs jumping up and down beneath. He was a bundle of nerves that was about to explode. “I ran for the first time that night, but I only went as far as his office at the clinic. I knew he kept a notebook, a tally for some of the experiments that he ran on the sly. I had a hunch, a sudden realization and I had to know. Dan was the one that gave me these markings in the first place. He had found the logs of an ancient magister and recreated what he did, tattooing the flesh with pure lyrium to create a perfect warrior.”

     Nickie gasped and reached out, cradling one of his hands in hers. His jitters stopped, as though her touch soothed him, which it did in a way. His shoulders slumped in sudden weariness and he reached out to cover her fingers with his other hand. “His apprentice, Hadriana, and some of Dan's bodyguards found me and brought me back to his estate where I was soundly beaten for what I had done. But now that I knew, there was no way I was going to be sticking around. A month or so later I was able to escape again, this time getting as far as Seheron, where I was taken in by a group of Fog Warrior guerillas. I made it six months with them, learning how to take care of myself, to read and write, mostly Tevene but with a smattering of Trade that I expanded after I came farther south. It was perfect, and then Dan found me once again.

     He saw what they had done for me and that they weren't going to just blithely hand me over to them, so he ordered me to kill them. I...I don't even remember doing it. It was as though my markings were under his control and I just...did it. When I saw what I'd done I couldn't..I just...I ran.

     At first I was running from myself and what I had done. Then I was running from Dan, never staying in one place too long, taking odd jobs when I could then moving on when I felt his slavers too close. Finally I couldn't do it anymore. I just couldn't keep running, so I decided to make a life and let him come. I would fight him for my freedom, to the death if that's what it came to. I went to school, became an emergency operator for a while and worked on my art in my spare time. I began to settle, and then meeting you...I want to really settle, stop looking over my shoulder at every noise. But I can't rust that Dan isn't there, a spell at the ready to have me grovelling back to him. Or worse to have me do to you what I did to the Fog Warriors.”

     “And now you've learned that I'm a mage too,” Nickie whispered, sadness heavily tingeing her voice.

     “Yes.” His voice was thick and heavy and Nickie cringed upon hearing it. She looked into his eyes, hoping for some spark of...something. But they were the cold, sterile eyes of his mask back in place. He pulled his hands away from hers and placed them in his lap.

     “Before I tell you about the things I can do, I need to know one thing,” Nickie began, straightening her spine, girding herself for the answer. “If I'd had the chance to speak with you about what I can do, before those slavers had come into the Hanged Man and ruined our night, would you be as angry with me as you are right now?”

     Fenris thought about it for so long that Nickie was afraid that the elf would never answer. He had gone back to drumming the table top, though only with the one hand this time, his other rubbing gently at his chin. She pushed her chair as far as it would go before it hit a wall and struggled to stand. “Never mind, Fenris. You don't need to answer that and my soup's probably stone cold by now.”

     Before she could get a step away, his fingers lashed out to take Nickie by the wrist, causing her to look down into his beautiful green eyes, finally showing the sadness he felt. “No, Nickie. I may not trust mages or magic with an open heart, not after...Dan. But I am more angry at how I learned of what you are. I trust that you would have confided in me eventually, if it hadn't been for those damned slavers.”

     “How about I reheat my soup and make you something to eat and we'll talk. I think there's a lot to discuss, don't you?”

     Fenris smirked just slightly. “Yes. Yes, I do.”


	12. Chapter 12

     Hot chicken noodle soup and thick cheese sandwiches were pretty much all Nickie was really capable of making without burning down the house on a usual day. This being a very unusual day, there was a small fire under one of the burners that she quickly extinguished with an ice spell and a sheepish grin. Fenris, watching from the large table, smirked with a tilt of his head.

      “So, Nickie. Tell me of your magic,” the elf began, nodding his head in thanks when she slid a bowl under his nose, his sandwich to his right hand.

     Nickie sighed, wedging herself back into her earlier spot, soup and sandwich before her. “I was a really late bloomer, my magic not manifesting until a year after Bethany...I mean, if I could have used ice spells then...”

     “Your sister's passing is not your doing. Never believe that it is.”

     Nickie turned to look at him, but Fenris was concentrating on his soup, not looking up from his bowl. “Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I guess the whole magic thing starts with Dad. He was a mage originally from Ferelden, but he was transferred here to Kirkwall to work in the Circle's computers department pretty early. He became the IT go-to guy, knew all about how to make a motherboard sing.

     I never found out what brought it on, but when Mother was pregnant with me, Dad just quit and we moved out of Kirkwall within the month. Whenever one of us would ask he would just say that it was necessary and change the subject. We moved around a lot, all over Fereldan, finally settling in this little town called Lothering in the south, near the Korcari Wilds. It was nice there, quiet. Dad used to do computer work, fixes and clean up for some our neighbours and worked in the mayor's office in IT. In his spare time he trained Bethany as a mage. Yes, I know, my baby sister showed as a mage long before me.

     About five years ago, Dad was on his way home from work when he somehow lost control of his car and hit an embankment head on. He was gone before he knew what hit him, thank the Maker. Mother fell apart and I basically had to take over the running of things.”

      “How old were you?” Fenris asked softly, watching the pain flicker across her face.

     “Sixteen or so. Things were tough for a while. I had to quit school to get work and Mother wouldn't think of leaving the twins alone for any length of time, so if she decided she needed to go out, I had to take time off of work to watch them, which of course meant that I got fired more than once. Not that it really mattered in the end.”

     Fenris reached out to softly touch the back of Nickie's hand and she took a deep breath, strengthening her resolve in that touch. She gave a quick grin and continued. “I, of course, told you the tale of Bethany so if it's all the same to you, I'll just keep going. 

     This was a good three years after Dad died, and the one thing I needed Mother to deal with, keeping up the insurance payments, she never did. Bethy was gone, the house was gone and we were destitute. So we did the last thing that we possibly could, I took everything we had left in our savings and booked the cheapest flight I could find to Kirkwall and our Uncle Gamlen.

     And, of course, did he tell Mother that he lost the family manse way back when their folks had died? Of course not! We ended up living in Gamlen's one room apartment for almost a year until I met Varric and he got Carver and I the place here. I spent the year working for an elf named Athenril, mostly in her shipping/receiving office while Carver worked on the loading docks. It was shitty work and to be totally truthful, very little that went through her warehouse was legal, but it kept food in our mouths and clothes on our backs. Not nearly enough for Mother, but what can you do?”

     By now Fenris had pulled Nickie's hand closer to him, rubbing his fingers across her knuckles. He couldn't figure out why he still felt so drawn to this woman, this mage, after the pain and degradation that mages had put him through, but he knew that if he tried to pull away he would be bereft. “How did you meet Varric?” he asked.

     Nickie chuckled, looking down at their entwined fingers. “It's funny really. I keep needing people to save me from muggers. Carver and I were trying to find work from Varric's brother, Bartrand, up in Hightown at his Merchant's Guild office. We had heard that he was hiring on for one of his nightclubs. We got turned down and then some asshole picked my pocket. Took everything I had on me, which was pretty much our entire grocery budget for the week. Varric steps out of an alley and cold cocks the guy as he's running past, gives me back our cash. We chat for a while, find out he's hiring for the Hanged Man, next thing you know Carver and I are moving out of Gamlen's and I've got a new job.”

     “And what about your magic?” Fenris whispered, pulling Nickie's hand up to draw her knuckles against his lips. He couldn't seem to stop himself, the need to taste at her skin overwhelming. He knew, in the back of his mind, that he should not be doing this, should be pushing her away for being a mage, for hiding it, but his lips still felt that tingle of her flesh and needed more.

     Nickie's own breath caught in her throat. It was as though an electric current was jolting through her hand, down her arm and into her chest. It wasn't even that he was kissing her knuckles so much as ghosting his lips across them, eyes half-lidded and looking up at her. She had to fight the urge to jump across the table and plaster herself to his mouth, mostly because with the tight fit of her in the chair and the cast on her foot, she'd probably hurt something else trying to do it.

     “My...my magic...uh, right. Um...we...we had just gotten the job with Athenril when the warehouse got raided by a faction of the Coterie. Rival smuggling groups or some such, and a couple of thugs got into the office. It was just me and this little mouse of an elf girl with me, both of us completely unarmed and the closest thing I could find to a weapon was an office chair. I tried it anyway and they don't do nearly the amount of damage that you would think. Anyway, I kinda threw my arms out, wanting to block them out and suddenly there was this wall of ice in the way. They never got through and it was hours before Carver and Athenril could cut their way into the office.

     Haven't been able to do the wall thing since, but Anders has been training me and I can do a fair bit of ice and fire spells now. I'm nowhere as good as him or Merrill with her plant magic, but I can hold my own.”

     Fenris turned her hand, kissing lightly at her scarred palm, revelling at the change in texture and the slick feel of her skin. It was a reminder that even a woman as perfect as her had her flaws. And they were beautiful.

     Nickie's eyes closed at the feeling, shivering at the feel of his lips, warm breath against her skin. She reached out with her other hand and lightly caressed the tip of his ear, watching his eyes close as he leaned into the touch, almost purring with it. She had never realized how sensitive elvehn ears were before but it led to all sorts of dirty thoughts for later consumption. She gripped the edge of the table with her other hand, white knuckled and sweating slightly. Things were tingling throughout her body, just from the soft touch of his lips against her scar.

      “Hey, how's it going?”

     Fenris jumped back, dropping Nickie's hand so that it thunked against the glass of the tabletop, whipping around to face the intruder. Anders stood, leaning in the door frame, scowling at the scene he had walked into. He'd showered as the two of them had discussed things and was still spotted with water droplets, his blond hair free of it's elastic and draped messily about his shoulders. How he got away with hair that length at the hospital was a mystery, but Fenris had to admit it looked good. He had nothing but a towel around his hips, slung low to partially reveal his hip bones and the smattering of hair that began at his navel and thickened as it dipped beneath the towel.

     Nickie recovered more quickly than the elf, wriggling out of her set and taking the second towel from the doctor's hands and rubbing it over his arm. “You are too damned skinny to be wandering the house all wet. You'll catch your death one of these days.”

     Yes, your death, Fenris thought to himself with a glower. Though he had to admit, thin as the man was, he wasn't bad looking. He needed more meat on his bones, his ribs visible in the light of the sun shining through the kitchen windows, and someone to wipe that condescending grin off his damned fool face, but he was still relatively handsome.

     “Oh, Sweetheart, if I have you to take care of me, I'll risk it.” Well, handsome until he opened his damned mouth.

     Nickie looked over and saw the elf's scowl. Well shit, I just got things back on track. She handed Anders his towel back and patted him on the arm. “Go get dry and dressed, then make yourself some damned lunch. If I hear about your stomach growling during surgery again I'm going to slap you.”

     Anders chuckled and ran his fingers quickly through Nickie's wavy chocolate hair. “Yes, Mom,” he laughed, then bent down to briefly kiss the top of her head before heading back upstairs. He'd been disturbed at what he had seen in the kitchen, Nickie very nearly stroking the elf off by the ear. He knew just how sensitive their organs could be, having had his fun with more than one in his wilder younger days, but he doubted Nickie did and Fenris didn't seem inclined to tell her.

     Well, he would make sure that that mage hating elf would never get his claws into his Nickie.


	13. Chapter 13

     “Andraste's knicker-weasels! What in the name of the Maker is all that?”

     “It's your lunch.”

     Anders lifted the soft cooler, meant for a dozen beer cans but now stuffed to the brim with plastic containers full of food and winced at the weight. “This is not lunch. This could feed the entire nursing staff.”

     Nickie smiled at him and stuffed utensils and napkins around his hand and into the bag. “Then whatever you don't eat, share.”

     Anders looked dubiously into the bag before zipping it closed. “You didn't cook any of this, did you?”

     She laughed, flicking her hair off her shoulder as she turned. “Of course not, otherwise everyone that ate it would end up a patient.” Nickie had no illusions as to her cooking skills. “No, Fenris did.”

     Anders scowled at the idea of eating the elf's cooking, though secretly he had actually rather liked it the last time he had gotten to eat some. Traditional Tevinter cuisine apparently favoured heavy pastas and sauces mixed with lighter meats, vegetables and all sorts of cheese. During the warmer months they switched to greens and ices to combat the oppressive summer heat. If it weren't for the way they treated, well, everybody, Anders wouldn't have minded living there.

     Smiling, he watched as Nickie flitted about the kitchen. Even with the cast on she moved with an effortless grace that Anders envied. And he was certain she had absolutely no idea just how beautiful she really was. Today she was dressed in a simple white crocheted sundress that might have been too short on an average sized woman but hit just above the knee on her and gave her every movement a light, airy feel. Her hair shone with it's own light, deep chocolate that made his fingers itch to touch. He, on the other hand, was dressed in pea soup green scrubs and still felt grubby from his last shift. He hadn't had a chance to shave between getting in ten hours ago and now, certainly no time to shower, and if it weren't for Nickie handing him food, he probably wouldn't have eaten tonight as well. He felt like a dirty old man next to her some days.

     “Cheer up, Handsome,” Nickie said, smiling up at him. She had twirled her way right up to him, standing toe to toe, so close he could breathe her in, his heart constricting in his chest as he did. Today she smelled of lilacs and fresh earth and he smiled, wondering just how long she had been working in the garden. Although, since it was lilacs, it was more likely she had been lending a hand to their neighbour, a little old lady who insisted on calling him Herbert and feeding him boiled cabbage. “Twenty-four hours on shift, forty-eight on call- which you can do from home- and then you're free for a week's vacation! Doing absolutely nothing but hanging out with me for a whole seven days.”

     Anders grinned at the thought. “Can't wait, Sweetheart. Maybe we can even get everyone else out of the house and I can ravish you here in the kitchen.”

     “Very funny, Doc. Okay, get your ass to work,” she laughed, pushing both him and his behemoth of a cooler, out the front door.

     He sighed, digging in his pockets for his keys. He had only been half joking really, but he knew that, without some work, she'd never see how he really felt.

                                               **************

 

     Fenris lay in his bed, a small single that had been in the room when he moved in, along with a scarred endtable, matching dresser and a really old television and stand that only got three channels when the weather was good. He was stretched out, stiff and unmoving with his hands tucked under his head and elbows splayed, staring up at the ceiling. He had heard it all, every word uttered in the kitchen between Anders and his Nickie. Heard the two of them flirt with each other. The man was obvious in his feelings for her, though thankfully Nickie seemed clueless.

     The elf clenched his fists, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. The idea of Anders even thinking of her made his blood boil. The possibility of him touching her was even worse. It made him want to take her and mark her as his, like an animal pissing on a bush, which just made him cringe. He was no animal to do something so...ridiculous.

     “Fenris? Are you down here?”

     He sat up with a start, looking towards the stairs, rushing over when he heard the thump of her cast on the creaky wooden steps. He watched as she carefully maneuvered her way down, eyes downcast at her feet to be sure she didn't misstep, hand gripping the rail like a lifeline. Concentrating as she was, the tip of her tongue darted out, held between her teeth. Fenris couldn't help but smile.

     “And to what do I owe this visit?” he asked.

     Nickie's head whiped up and she momentarily lost her balance, teetering on the step. Without thinking, Fenris jumped the few intervening feet and wrapped his arm around her waist. She gasped, caught in the power that were his eyes, that sharp bright green the colour of clear emeralds, brightened by flecks of gold that seemed to shimmer with some inner light. Fenris was just as caught, drowning in eyes filled with summer storms. No matter how many times he looked into those orbs, he was just as lost.

     The two of them might have stood like that for hours were it not for a foot cramp. Nickie winced, just slightly, but that was all it took. Fenris leaned in and scooped her up in his arms, much to her laughing protests and deposited her softly on his bed. Which, of course, brought on a whole new delimna. Nickie was on his bed. She was now sitting, dressed in a soft crocheted sundress of purest white, in the place where he...thought about her. Nightly. Sometimes twice. And now we was blushing, the heat slowly creeping up into his ears. Maker above, she was on. His. Bed!

     She smiled up at him. “Fenris? I think you should really try breathing now.”

     So he did, a harsh breath as though he had been holding air in his lungs for some time, which he guessed he had been, come to think of it. He smiled back at her, because it seemed the thing to do, not realizing that it was a true smile, a wide and honest smile.

     Nickie's heart skipped a beat or ten. Fenris was smiling at her. Not a smirk, or that brief twist of his lips, but a real smile that reached his eyes and everything. It made his whole face light up like that of a beautiful child and Nickie knew she was lost. She had never felt anything like this before and she prayed to the Maker that it was love, because if it wasn't, she didn't think she'd survive the real thing.

     Fenris finally, with great effort, pulled his eyes away and sat beside her on the bed, feverishly hoping there were no stains or...anything. “So? Why did you deign to enter my crypt, as it were?”

     “Well, I was going to ask if you would like to come down to the Wounded Coast with me, but if you live in a crypt, perhaps the sun is not a good thing to expose you to. Maybe we should wander through Darktown instead, maybe a trip through the sewers.”

     Fenris grimaced at the idea of Nickie anywhere near Darktown, though where they lived now wasn't that far from the tunnels to the lower parts of the city. “Very funny, Nickie. We shall not be wandering the bowels of the city anytime soon. But I could see myself going to the Coast, as long as it were with you. What shall we be doing out there?”

     “I was thinking of bringing my sketchbook and a picnic. Get some drawing done, a light meal, watch the sun set on the Waking Sea then coming home to a hot bath and late night sitcoms.”

     Fenris watched her for a moment, trying to decide if she was joking or not. 'Late night sitcoms'? Nickie had never watched anything like that with him before, though really, they hadn't spent a lot of time doing things like that together, so he didn't know if that was something that she would do. Not that it really mattered to him either way. Nothing on the television could compare to watching her.

     “Please don't tell me we would be eating your cooking,” he said with a smirk.

     “Maker forbid!” Nickie laughed. “We'd never survive the trip. No, we can pick up some stuff from the Hanged Man on the way out. Norah is a wiz at putting a basket together.”

     Fenris watched Nickie with a smile before nodding. “Yes. I think a trip to the Coast with you would be a wonderful thing.”


	14. Chapter 14

     They ended up taking Fenris' car out to the Coast. Originally Nickie had planned on taking the bus, people watching as they went the way she liked. It was fun sometimes, to imagine the lives of the people that got on and off the bus, especially when she was in a playful mood as she was now. She could come up with entire scenario for their lives, complete with funny voices. It was something that would have Bethany in fits of giggles when they were kids.

     But Fenris was not comfortable with the idea of the bus. Too many people, too many opportunities for ambush. Not to mention that he really didn't like the idea of sharing Nickie with so many. He wanted to be alone with her, so they ended up in his poor clunker of a car.

     He was disappointed when he saw that the public parking lots were filled to overflowing with family cars and screaming kids, but Nickie just smiled and told him to keep driving. Ten minutes further along, Fenris becoming more and more confused, she had him stop and park near a craggy cliff. He had to admit that the view was beautiful from up where they were, but there was really no place to sit or be comfortable.

     Nickie just smiled. That smile that outshone the sun and soothed his heart. So he did as she asked and followed her from the car to the edge of the cliff, gripping her hand as he did. Thick fear griopped his heart at the idea of her possibly falling. She turned to him and laughed, then kissed him gently on the cheek. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

     She pulled him over to a stand of bushes and pulled them aside, revealing a steep path down to the tiny inlet at the base of the cliff. “See? A place all to ourselves. We can have our picnic there and watch the tide and sketch the stones to our hearts' content.”

     Fenris looked from Nickit to the path and back, “Only if I go first. You may have taken this path before but not with that cast on your foot.”

     “Very true,” she said, “Thank you for thinking of me.”

     He had to stop from debasing himself at her feet, bathing in her approval, and ended up scowling instead. Angry with himself, he stormed back to the car to gather the sacks filled with art supplies and their lunch.

     Nickie watched him go with concern. She'd thanked him and he got angry. Why? She didn't understand what she could have done to set him off. A simple thank you shouldn't have been that bad, but then maybe he didn't really appreciate being thanked for things. Some people were like that.

     When Fenris returned we was back to his usual blank face, which Nickie wasn't really a fan of but it was better than the scowl, so she didn't mention anything. She just made herself a promise to watch what she said. With a grin she took one of the sacks from Fenris' fingers and motioned for him to lead the way. “Hug the wall and go slow. Sometimes the rocks can be a little shifty when you walk.”

     The elf nodded and moved forward. Though not particularly long, the path was steeper than he would have liked and he searched the wall for handholds. Thankfully there were many, some even man made. He hefted his sack up on his shoulder and carefully followed the path down to the beach bellow.

     Nickie watched him for a moment before following. He was so damned beautiful! Slightly taller than most elves- taller than her at least- a more densely packed with muscle, but still lithe and sinewy, like a ballet dancer. She was suddenly struck by the idea of him dancing in a leotard and couldn't decide if she should blush or giggle, settling for both.

     When Fenris looked back to see what her mirth was about, he was struck by how the sun made her glow. He was gripped by the urge to reach out and pull her close, to run his fingers through her hair and feel the heat in it. Instead he turned back to the path and continued on, not seeing Nickie's face fall at his reaction.

     Down in the sand, Fenris took in the vista before them while Nickie pulled out a blanket and a couple of inflatable pillows to relax on. It was breathtaking, here on the Waking Sea. Wild, untamed land, thick with brush and the heady scents of flowers. The waters were dark, deep and cold. It was nothing like the places he had been before. Minrathous was a land-locked city, and while Seheron was surrounded by ocean waters, they had been calm and hot and bright white.

     He turned to see Nickie trying to inflate a pillow and couldn't help but laugh. Her cheeks were puffed out with air, beginning to turn red with exertion. And the pillow wasn't inflating. Nickie was so startled by his laughter that she sputtered and nearly choked on her own unexpelled breath. “Give me the pillow before you suffocate yourself.”

     So apparently I need to make an idiot of myself to make him smile, she thought to herself, handing over the evil pillow. I can handle that.

     Fenris looked over the intake valve and snickered. “Were you thinking particularly...warm thoughts as you were blowing into the pillow?”

     You. Naked in the ocean. “Of course not.” Score one for lying like a moron.

     “Really? Because you seem to have melted the plastic valve so that no air can get in. So you were either thinking very warm thoughts that transfered to a bit of magical breath, or you just naturally run extremely warm, and since I have yet to be melted I will assume it was the former.”

     He was grinning at her. Grinning when he learned that she'd let a bit of her magic get away from her. Maybe that part of her wasn't as repugnant to him as she thought it was. Of course she was also blushing to the roots of her hair so that might have had something to do with it.

     They ended up sharing the other pillow, Fenris lying back to watch as Nickie sketched the skyline, Nickie resting back as Fenris set out their lunch, both cuddled together to look up at the blue of the sky, pointing out clouds to each other. So caught up in the heat and scents of each other, neither noticed the watchers at the top of the cliff.

     “What's the bitch doin' now?”

     “Cloud watchin' with the knife-ear.”

     “You gotta be kiddin' me! That sweet piece of ass is banging a dirty little knife-ear? I always knew mage sluts were kinky but that's just disgusti'!”

     “Yeah, well Stannard don't wanna know about what she does 'tween the sheets, just where some stupid files are. So we watch and see where the bitch takes us and team two hits the house while it's empty.”

                                             ****************

 

      Fenris and Nickie were feeling warm and happy as they pulled into the driveway, at least until they spotted the front door ajar. “You did remember to close the door behind as we left, yes?” Fenris asked, easing off his seatbelt and opening his door.

     “I skinned my knuckle trying to get my old key out when I locked it. It was definitely closed.” she replied, getting out without care for the noise.

     “Wait, Nickie!” the elf called behind her as she ran for the porch. Dammit! What if it was a break in and the guy was still there? She was going to get herself killed! He grabbed her by the arm and pushed her behind him, holding a finger to her lips when she began to protest. “Have a spell ready but let me lead. You're slower with the cast on.”

     Nickie paused but nodded to his direction, readying an ice spell, mostly because her fire spells might burn down the house. Fenris stepped forward, slowly easing the door open farther and peering in. Everything seemed in it's place, but he really could only see the entry hall, parts of the living room and kitchen. He motioned for Nickie to follow and crept farther in. The kitchen looked clear, as did the living room. Carver's bedroom was a disaster zone, but it always looked like that so it was difficult to tell.

     They knew there was an issue when they reached Nickie's studio. It was as though a wild bereskarn had rampaged through the room. Every painting had been shredded, her supplies strewn everywhere. Paint had been smeared on the white walls and even sketchbooks had been ripped apart. Fenris gasped, then, before Nickie could get a good view of the room, turned and grabbed her wrist, pulling her out of the house.

     “Fenris! What? Was there-” she began but he interrupted her.

     “Someone was here. They demolished the studio. I'm calling the police.”

     “Aveline. Give me your cell and I'll call Aveline. She'll...my studio? Is anything...” Nickie looked at him, eyes glazed with tears.

     “I'm sorry. There was nothing left that I could see.” Fenris handed her his phone with a heavy heart. He couldn't imagine how he would feel if someone destroyed everything he had worked on, poured his soul into. He watched as she spoke with her friend, explaining what had happened, agreeing to wait outside for the uniform officers to arrive and that she would be there as soon as she could.

      When he realized that she was beginning to shake and turn a sickly pale colour, he took her by the shoulders and pulled her close, rubbing his hands up and down her back and arms, trying to keep the circulation going. He knew the signs of shock and vainly battled against them. When the officers arrived he let them know what had happened and how far they had gotten into the house. They went in, guns drawn, though the perpetrator had eveidently fled as they emmerged empty handed. Aveline pulled up as they exited and she confronted them before speaking with Fenris and Nickie.

     After a few minutes the Captian approached her friend with a sad face. “I'm sorry about this Nickie, but your rooms are completely gutted. Carver's too, though it's hard to tell. Looks like the loft and the basement are clear though. The perp only hit the main floor. Did you have anything worth stealing in there? Money, jewelry?”

     “You know how hard up we are for cash, Ave,” Nickie said in an almost whisper. She was shivering now and Fenris was doing everything in his power to warm her up. “We've got nothing worth stealing. Nothing not worth stealing either.”

     “Do you think this might be related to your attack from a few weeks ago?” Fenris noticed that Aveline's notebook was out. Officer first, friend second.

     “How could it?” Nickie asked, tears starting to fall. “It was a random mugging. Wasn't it?” She turned and buried her face in Fenris' shoulder. Aveline and Fenris exchanged a look. A random mugging was one thing, but this was something else. Only the Hawke's rooms were touched, but why?

     Carver came storming up a short time later, having been called by one of the uniforms, demanding answers from them, from Aveline, from Fenris. Up until Nickie turned, hit her younger brother on the arm and collapsed into his hug. You could feel the anger ease away from the young man as he craddled his sister. He assured her it would all be okay, they'd figure shit out.

     Fenris moved away from the family group, leaning against the trunk of his old clunker and watching the street, then moving out to meet Varric when he spotted the dwarf rushing out of the Hanged Man.

     “What's going on, elf?” he asked, already out of breath.

     “Somebody broke into the house and trashed Carver and Nickie's rooms. The studio too. We gave our statements and she's with her brother now. Waiting for them to clear the house so we can go in and assess the damage.” Fenris replied, crossing his arms over his chest and kicking at a loose stone.

     “Well, fuck,” Varric spat as Aveline approached them. “What are you doing to protect Princess, Captain?”

     “Hello to you too, Varric.” Aveline stood to attention as though at inspection. “The best I can do right now is set up an extra patrol over the next few nights and help her with the clean up tomorrow. In the meantime, the two of you take care of her. She tries to put on a brave face and jokes a lot, but she's a lot more fragile than she lets on.” She sighed then extended her hand to Fenris. “Watch out for her? These incidents don't feel random but there's nothing I can do to prove it.”

     Fenris shook with a scowl. “Of course, Captain Hendyr.”

     “Aveline.”

     They stared at each other before Fenris pulled away. “Aveline, of course.”

     “I attempted to get a hold of Anders at the hospital but he was in surgery, and probably won't get the message until late tonight. Be prepared.”

     Fenris growled. The idea of that damned doctor storming into the house in the middle of the night after everything that Nickie had already been through made his blood boil. Aveline chuckled and bade the four of them good-bye, following her men out to their cars and back to the station.

     Moments later Nickie approached as well, pulling a glowering Carver along behind her. She reached out her other hand to take Fenris'. “So, shall we go inside and see what kind of a cleanup the house needs?”

     “Sure thing, Princess. Whatever you need.” Varric patted her on the leg with a smile.

     Fenris squeezed her fingers and leaned in to give her a soft kiss on the cheek. “Yes. Whatever you need.”


	15. Chapter 15

     Nickie had taken a quick peek into her studio and then quietly shut the door. Maybe she could get Varric and Carver to tackle that one once they had sorted through Carver's room. Just the idea of trying to clean up all the destroyed canvases, the torn sketch books made her want to cry. Strangely enough, her bedroom felt like the less personal intrusion into her privacy.

     Fenris followed along behind, a presence at her back. It seemed as though he was always there to pick up her slack. Even now, just standing in the hallway staring at her bedroom door, she wasn't sure that she could handle what was inside without him there.

     She took a deep breath and reached for the knob, then froze. Her fingers shook, scared to death to see what lay beyond. She realized it was silly, really. It was just a room, just stuff, but in a way it was also her life. It was everything she had accumulated since losing everything in Fereldan. Since Bethany.

     And then there were fingers wrapped around hers. Long and warm, calloused with slight ridges from the lyrium in his skin, Fenris' hand slid around her own, a bit of added strength. He was so near to her that she could feel his breath upon her cheek, breathe deeply of his scent and smiled. If this beautiful, wonderful man could start over after a life of slavery, of not knowing who he even was, she could certainly face a ripped up bedroom.

     They pushed the door open together and Fenris felt more than heard the pained little gasp that escaped Nickie's lips. His first impression was that someone had come through with a giant sword or a pair of garden shears. Everything had been torn asunder, shredded. Upon closer examination, though, he could see that that wasn't exactly true. Her mattress and bedding were a write off, her dresser pulled apart and two of the drawers smashed, and glass from a mirror and picture frames coated everything, but little things like her clothing seemed relatively intact, if strewn about the floor. Knick knacks and books were thrown into corners, open and ripped, some a little bent, but all salvageable.

     She sagged for a moment, then pulled herself straight, turning to flash him a smile. “I think we can repair this, don't you?”

     He could see the pain hidden in her eyes, begging him to lie to her, to give her some kind of hope. He couldn't smile for her. He tried, but it just wouldn't come. Instead he tried to put every bit of strength for her into his eyes and nodded. “Yes. We can work with this.”

     Her relief was palatable. She understood. Even with all the pain she was going through, she understood that there was just too much in his own life to be able to lie like that. To lie with his eyes and give her the sense that everything would be okay. So he gave her what he could and she was happy with that. The least he could do would be to give her the strength he could.

     “So how about we get the big shit that we can't save and get it out of here, then we can work on the smaller stuff?” she asked, resting her hand on his forearm.

     She was asking his opinion? Did he even have one? He'd never had call to deal with something like this before, so he hadn't the first clue as to how to start. He nodded, praying to the Maker that that was the right way to go and got a brilliant smile in return.

     His heart clenched in his chest and he couldn't help but smile in return. He would do anything, kill anyone, to see that smile again. He would slay dragons.

     Both mattresses that Nickie had for her bed were trashed and after a few minutes Fenris was forced to call in Carver to help him maneuver the beasts down the hall and outside. Thankfully, Varric had had the foresight to call for a trash bin to be delivered to the house and just with those two things, the container was nearly half full.

     “Why in the Void would they rip up a couple of mattresses?” Carver asked, stopping to wipe sweat from his brow.

     “I do not know.”

     Fenris was angry and confused. This was not random destruction. Whoever had entered the home had been looking for something, and had known which rooms belonged to Hawkes, only entering them and not the other rooms in the house. The more he thought about it the angrier he became. No one, absolutely no one, would live if they touched his Nickie. Not again.

     “Hey...uh...dude? You're glowing.”

     Fenris looked up at Carver, bathed in a light blue glow, then down at his arms. Even through the sleeves of his shirt, his markings were shining through and it actually took him a moment to calm enough to douse them. “Sorry. I do not take this lightly and it is making me angry.”

     “You and me both, Fenris.”

                                           ************

 

      Aveline was finally able to get a hold of Anders at four the next morning and he immediately found a float to cover for him, rushing home in a panic. Forced to park on the street because of the industrial waste bin in the driveway, he had a few precious seconds to calm himself before careening into the house to find Nickie.

     “Hey, Doc,” a gruff voice called out and he searched the porch, spotting Varric on the lowest step, a cigarette dangling in his fingers, an opened beer bottle at his feet. “Pull up a step and take a load off.”

     “What in the name of Andraste's knicker-weasels happened? Aveline was frustratingly vague on the phone,” he demanded, standing in front of his landlord with his arms crossed over his chest. He was not about to relax until he saw everything for himself.

     Varric sighed, exhausted but unwilling to leave for home just yet. What had begun as helping out a couple of needy kids had become, over time, taking care of family. And, unlike his actual brother, he never abandoned family. “So, while everybody was out doing their own thing today, a couple of yahoos trashed the first floor. Well, not the kitchen or the living room, but the bedrooms and Princess' studio. Everything's pretty much a write off, but I think I can get my insurance to cover a lot of it.”

     The blood seemed to rush from Anders' face and he sat heavily next to the dwarf on the step, though this meant he was almost literally eating his knees. “The studio? Nickie's paintings?”

     “All wrecked.”

     “Fuck.”

     Varric passed Anders his beer, which the doctor slugged back in a single swallow. “You said it, Blondie.”

                                            ************

 

     Fenris heard Anders enter the house and felt him pause at the doorway of the bedroom though he made no move to show the man that he was awake. An hour before, while combing through photo albums to be certain that none of the pictures had been damaged and telling Fenris all about what had been happening in each and with whom, Nickie had fallen asleep against his chest, Fenris' arm wrapped up around her shoulder. They leaned against a wall, her hip pressed up against his, cheek pressed against him and hand upon the album in his lap. He had spent the last hour with his eyes closed and face resting in her hair, drinking in her scent.

     The idea of the man seeing them together thrilled him. _That's right, little man. She is mine._ But opening his eyes and possibly having to interact with the mage was not going to happen. They would inevitable argue and that would wake Nickie and he wasn't about to lose her warmth against him because of the idiot.

     No, instead he lay propped up against the wall and held her to him, no matter how much he wanted to rub it into his rivals face or how uncomfortable they may get.

     Anders moved away and ascended the stairs to his loft to take a quick shower and change to jeans and a tee shirt. He really should get some sleep, he thought to himslef, seeing as how Nickie is all right, but he was jeeped up on adrenaline and caffeine now and it just wasn't about to happen. Anyway, he had two days of being on call and then a week's vacation and if he decided to spend all that time awake, he could if he wanted.

     A clean Anders entered the kitchen briefly to grab a quick cup of coffee then made his way over to the studio. A brief glimpse across the hall showed Carver sprawled on some blankets on the floor, his mabari pressed up against his side, sleeping through the vibrations of Carver's snoring. How the dog did it, Anders could never guess, but apparently he slept like the dead.

     Inside the studio, Varric was snapping pic after pic on his digital camera of Nickie's slashed canvases before carefully cutting the ruins away from the frames and separating them into piles. Many of the frames could have new canvas stretched over them and were set aside for future reuse. Some of the paintings were not completely destroyed and could be cut down and mounted onto smaller frames. And some were now just...lost.

     “Do me a favour, Blondie, and take an inventory of all the paints that were destroyed, will ya?” Varric asked, handing him a small notebook and pen. “Since becoming an agent, I added art and artistic sundries to my insurance for the house and listed it all around half a mill, but I gotta document everything to the last detail.”

     Anders froze in shock. “Five hundred thousand sovereigns?” he sqeeked.

     Varric just grinned. “Yeah. Between Princess' paintings and the elf's metalwork, there's a shitload of money in this house just waiting to be collected. Get the right collector's and you're looking at a few million. If I'd known that she had all this here, I would have gotten her a show a lot sooner. Now I'm thinking maybe I can show her stuff on the wall when I do Fenris' floor pieces and get the two of them some recognition. Especially when the artsy fartsy types hear that there are a limited number of pieces 'cause of a break in.”

     The healer looked over at his friend and sighed. The gleam was there in his eyes, money to be made, suckers to fleece. He was a dwarf all right, through and through. “Have you discussed this with her?”

     “Of course not!” Varric laughed, taking another shot of destroyed artwork. “She'd just tell me nothing was good enough and not to waste my time. No, I'm gonna have to be sneaky about the whole thing. Get her to sign a contract with the insurance papers or something. No, I will be getting this girl's name out there in the art world if it damn well kills me.”

     Anders thought about it for a moment. Knowing how stubborn Nickie could be sometimes, it just might.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the major delay, guys! Unfortunately, we had a major death in the family and it's kept me super distracted for the last little while. And then there will probably be another delay after this, seeing as how my copy of Inquisition will finally be arriving! I'm hoping all will be forgiven eventually :)

     “Nickie, you need to sit still for this.”

     “But I'm excited!”

     “I don't care. If you can't sit still I can't do this and you'll never get the damned thing off.”

     Nickie shifted on the examination table and smiled. Anders was sitting on a stool in front of her, small electric saw held at the ready in his hand. Today was the day, the cast was coming off and it took everything in Nickie's power not to jump for joy.

     Anders had asked to be able to do this himself, especially after Nickie's osteologist had thrown his hands up in the air when she couldn't be still and stormed away. The poor man had dealt with less fidgetty five year olds- at least according to what he was muttering when he left.

     She looked into her friend's large smile and took a deep, stabilizing breath. She felt the overwhelming _need_ to ge tthe damned cast off, by any means necessary. And if that meant sitting perfectly still and submitting to Anders ministations, so be it.

     For a grand total of thirty seconds. Then she started jittering again.

     “Do I need to put you to sleep?” he asked with a grin. Inconvenient as it may be, Anders loved seeing Nickie like this, full of energy and excited. After the damage done to the house and her things, Nickie had withdrawn for a while. She'd spent countless hours in her studio, mostly just looking out the window at the sky. When she wasn't there, she was in the garden, though very little weeding had actually gotten done. Most people received only a wan smile when they spoke to her and she rarely talked to anyone on her own.

     Anyone but Fenris.

     When Fenris entered the room, Nickie would light up. When he spoke, she listened, and was soon taking over the conversation in her usual way. Her eyes brightened, she smiled more, she even danced a little. Anders just wished it wasn't because fo the elf.

     “Okay, Nickie, deep breath,” he said, starting the saw. The room filled with the high pitched whir of the electric saw and- zip zip- off came the cast. Nickie didn't wait for the doctor to put his equipment down before yanking off the offending plaster and cringing down at her foot.

     “Ugh! What in the name of Andraste-?”

     “Nickie, that's just a few weeks of dead skin and hair growth,” he laughed, noting her disgusted sneer at the mass of, well, stuff for lack of a better word, all over her foot. “We'll give you a quick sponge bath now and you can shave off the hair when you get home.”

     Nickie nodded and presented her foot to Anders. “Please. I can't wait to get rid of all this...yuck.”

     Anders chuckled and grabbed a sponge from the nearby sink, prepped earlier for just this moment. “Yes, my lady. Let's clean you as befitting a princess.”

     Foot propped up in his lap, warm water sloughing off days of dirt and skin, Nickie leaned back and relaxed into the soothing touch of her friends' hands. One of the wonderful things about Anders was his ability to soothe her, make her feel warm and safe no matter what was going on. The warm water and lightly calloused hands massaging her skin had her closing her eyes and purring like a kitten.

    _Oh, Maker, Nickie, don't do that._ Anders cringed, shifting slightly to try and hide the rising erection in his trousers. Here he was, fondling the foot of the most beautiful woman he knew, his best friend in the world, and she was squirming and purring like a young cat in his lap. It was making things _very_ difficult.

     And, of course, this would be when Fenris would walk in the door.

     Tired of waiting in the lounge for Nickie to be finished, Fenris went in search of her, wandering the halls of osteology. He began peeking his head in the rooms but one too many mothers had hissed at him to leave around the forms of weeping children for him to keep that up, so he started listening in on conversations as he moved. Doctors, nurses, a still drunk college kid laughing at the bone protruding from his shin. That one was pretty gross.

     “Anders, that feels amazing.”

     Fenris froze. That was most assuredly Nickie. And that damned mage had his hands on her.

     He turned and stood in the doorway, taking in the room. Nickie was on an examination table, leaning back on her hands, now castless foot propped up in an obvious appreciative Anders' lap. The man was using a sponge to wash the presented foot, massaging it with his long, dexterous fingers. It was fairly certain that Anders was enjoying himself. Immensely.

     “Fenris!”

     He focused on Nickie and began to relax. As soon as she spotted him, she had jumped down from the table, approaching with arms and smile wide. She was so beautiful. Small, built like a dancer, with the thickest, richest chocolate hair that made him want to run his fingers through it and never let go. Eyes as large as an elf's, grey green like a storm wracked sea and sparkling with mirth and some indefineable light. She was beauty and light, and he smiled at the sight of her.

     “Fenris! Look!” she exclaimed, beaming. “I've got two feet again!”

     She spun, wobbling slightly until Fenris wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close into his chest. Hands, hot even through his shirt, breath against his cheek, the heady scent of vanilla and paints and Nickie all melded together in his nose. He couldn't seem to help leaning in closer, pressing his cheek to hers. And like a drug, the more he was around her the more he needed.

     Nickie melted into his arms, revelling in the warmth Fenris emminated. Through everything that had happened recently he had been her rock. Always there, always ready to listen to her rant or to just sit with her while she read or watched television. And when he needed to work, he willingly opened his studio to her, let her sit with him while he worked, though he'd never let anyone in before. He allowed her into his basement room, held her after a nightmare, made her her favourite dinner and fresh bread and brownies so rich she thought he was actually trying to give her diabetes. As far as she was concerned, he was absolutely perfect.

     “All right you two. Cut it out.” Anders growled.

     Fenris stiffened under her hands and began to pull away, scowling at the mage. “Do you mind?”

     “Actually yes,” he snapped back, wiping his hands down the front of his coat, mostly to keep from reaching out and strangling the elf. “Osteology needs this room for patients and I have rounds to complete, which I can't do if the two of you are canoodling in the doorway.”

     Nickie giggled and pulled Fenris out into the hall. “There you go, oh magnanimous one. We shall endeavour to keep our canoodling out of the way of your magnificnece.”

     Anders rolled his eyes, aware of the glare Fenris shot him as he passed the two of them. “Thank you very much, beautiful Princess. The trials and tribulations of Grey Medical await. I'll see you at home.” With a last wave Anders hurried off, not really in search of people to treat so much as to get away from the two of them. Much as he adored Nickie, he couldn't stand to see the two of them together.

     Nickie threaded her hand around Fenris' arm and pulled him along the corridor towards the lobby. “Come on, we're going to be late.”

     “Late?” Fenris asked, looking at her in confusion. “Late for what? Where are we going?”

     “They're unveiling your piece for that bank downtown, remember? You don't want to miss it, do you?”

      Actually, Fenris had had every intention of missing it. Any kind of publicity might get back to Dan, which he would most happily like to avoid. But Nickie looked so damned eager to see his work unveiled for the first time that he couldn't say no.

     They piled into Fenris' car and made their way to the looming structure of Kirkwall Savings and Loan. Run by the Dwarven Merchant's Guild, KSL was one of Kirkwall's leading employers and was a major player in city policy. Fenris had been commissioned to design a dragon for the massive three storey entryway to greet visitors as they entered. Legend had it that KSL was started when a group of adventuring dwarves found and killed a High Dragon and claimed its hoard. Whether or not that was true was anyone's guess, but the idea was enticing.

     Kirkwall Savings and Loan was a tremendous structure of steel and glass that reflected the midday sun into colourful rainbows. Nickie craned her neck to see the towering structure as they pulled up nearby. “Wow,” she said in a hushed voice. “Remind me never to piss these people off.”

     “Why?” Fenris asked, taking her hand and moving to the door.

     “I just have this feeling that they would step on me like an ant. Like I was beneath their notice or something.”

     The elf chuckled. “Unless you're worth more than around a million sovereigns, they probably would.”

     “A million?” she squeaked.

     “To start with anyway. The upper eschelon members really only deal with the big money makers. Royalty and such, maybe a few merchants. People like us they wouldn't notice long enough to squish us.”

     Entering the lobby Nickie looked around with wide eyes. “Oh.”

     Glass and chrome continued to be the focus into the interior of the building, tinted thankfully so as not to blind thier patrons upon entry. Three storeys tall, the foyer was a testament to the wealth of KSL's clients, shining and pristine.

     Nickie hated it right away.

     A dwarf approached them, wringing his hands in a very un-dwarven-like manner.

     “Mister Blackfeather! I'm so glad you managed to get here. When you said you weren't going to make it I just about panicked! The patrons so want to meet you and there have been talks about commissioning more work and everyone has been asking about you-”

     “Mister Anso,” Fenris interrupted with a sigh. “I will come to the dais when announced. If anyone wants to speak with me about a commission please give them one of my cards to set up an appointment, which I gave to your secretary last week. Other than that, I wish to be left alone.”

     Anso was wringing his hands, grey eyes darting around the room and dark beard fairly twitching. Nickie's eyes moved around as his did, searching out whatever had the man so nervous. She'd never met a more anxious dwarf. She breathed an audible sigh of relief when he moved away and Fenris lead her to a temporary bar set up in a far away corner.

     He ordered a bottle of very expensive red wine from Tevinter then drank straight from the neck, foregoing glasses. It was smooth, almost sweet, as it coated his throat and sang in his blood. So much better than the harsh Nevarran or cloying Orlesian wines he could usually afford.

     “You know, you could have offered me a glass,” Nickie teased. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile.

     “There's more if you're really interested.”

     She waved her hand imperiously. “Perish the thought! The artist should never have to share the bottle with the lowly plebes.”

     Fenris drank deep of the bottle once again, then leaned in close to her. “Never a lowly plebe. More likely a muse of beauty and wonder.”

     “Beauty and wonder, is it?” she chuckled, leaning a little closer into the elf's warmth. “More like a crazy lady who still has one slightly hairy foot.”

     Fenris wrapped his arms around her, the bottle resting lightly against the curve of her ass, and nuzzled at her ear, sending an electric shock through her. “I happen to like your hairy foot. I like a lot of things about you.”

     “Nichola Abigaile Hawke! What do you think you're doing?”

     Nickie jumped away and spun with a look of shock and just a little fear at the screeching voice. Without thinking, Fenris lifted the wine bottle like a club, prepared to defend Nickie from the Harpy that was apparently about to descend.

     “Mother! What are you doing here?”

      _Mother?_ Vaguely, Fenris could hear the ceremony for the unveiling begin as he looked over the woman before them. Tall, statuesque and stately even in her obviously patched dress, her bearing exuded nobility. Her hair had once been dark but turned to deep grey and kept undyed, eyes a pale blue and lined with age, now flashing with indignation. Except for a slight turn of the jaw, she looked nothing like his Nickie and he wondered briefly if she took more after her father.

     “I am here for the unveiling, of course,” the woman answered, sneer moving from daughter to elf. “You, on the other hand, seem to be making a spectacle of yourself with the hired help.”

     Before Fenris had a chance to be offended, Nickie had stepped in front of him and began waving a finger in her mother's face. “Don't you dare! Fenris is more than just 'hired help'- every elf here is- and you would do well to remember that, seeing as you have had to do similar jobs over the years. How long did you wait tables at the Gnawed Noble in Denerim when I was a kid? Three? Four?”

     “Things are different now, Nichola. We're in Kirkwall, nobility. You mustn't debase yourself-”

     “No, Mother. You are debasing yourself with this bigotted attitude of yours. You may have been born a noble but I'm no more a noble than dirt and you would do well to remember that.”

     Fenris stared at the confrontation with rapt attention and missed the calling of his name, not realizing there was an issue until the noise in the cavernous room ground to a halt. He looked around, seeing the multitude of faces staring at them, moving to the dais when he saw Anso's frantic waving.

     “Where does the elf think he's going?” Nickie's mother asked with disdain.

     Nickie smirked. “I think he's gone to unveil his artwork, Mother. Seeing as how this whole big party is for him.”

     Watching the blood seep from her mother's face made the whole spectacle worth it.

                                               ************

 

     The woman sipped carefully at the glass of Tevinter red wine and smirked. A blonde wig covered her dark hair and tinted glasses masked her piercing blue eyes to keep the elf from recognizing her. She could almost feel the waves of discomfort rolling off the elf and she revelled in it.

      _No one runs away from Master Arius,_ she thought to herself. _I will be bringing you back in chains and be rewarded as none before me has ever seen._


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for how late this is! Between family crisis', the holidays, and of course Inquisition, I'm taking forever to write stuff!

     Carver was pacing back and forth in Nickie's room, randomly reaching up to grasp at his hair or run his hands down his face. “Okay, explain to me again how you embarrassed the Void out of Mother and why she keeps calling me to complain about it.”

     Nickie sighed from the doorway to her closet, perusing the contents for an outfit worthy of dancing at the Hanged Man. “She berated me for hanging out with a lowly elf right in front of him. She was rude and nasty to both Fenris and me.”

     “And where was this exactly?”

     “At the unveiling for his new sculpture at Kirkwall S and L. Huge party full of big shots. She was trying to look like all the other noble assholes.” She reached into the closet and pulled out a muted yellow sundress with small white embroidery and a knee length skirt perfect for twirling. She tested it out, just to be sure. Yep, great for twirling.

     “Did she know he was the artist?” Carver asked, watching his sister. He tried not to grin, since his mother was now making his life hell for what was really starting to sound like her own issue. Nickie was looking so happy now. Not the fake smile that most people saw, the one she'd worn since Bethany, but a real deep down kind of happiness.

     “Of course she didn't,” Nickie scoffed. “She didn't bother to find out. She just saw me with Fenris and flipped. Watching her face when he went up to do the unveiling was priceless.” She threw the dress onto the bed and began reaching for the hem of her tee shirt.

     “Hey! What are you doing?” Carver exclaimed, turning away from her and covering his eyes.

     “Changing, what does it look like?” she replied, muffled by rising cloth.

     “Maker! Could ya wait til I'm out of the room?” he cried, hurrying away to the sound of Nickie's giggles behind him, the door closing in his wake. Damn, that girl could be a serious pain in his ass!

     Down the hall in the kitchen, Carver could hear his girlfriend Merrill talking a mile a minute in that way she had. Strangely he found it somewhat soothing, the way her mind wove around a subject until it begged to die. He'd listened as she spoke to some of Kirkwall's leading minds and turned them into quiver balls of goo, ready to walk away from their life's work as she explained to them how they were wrong.

     She was currently chatting away at Anders as he attempted to make himself a cup of tea, most likely to keep his fingers from twining around her throat to get her to shut up. Perched atop the kitchen counter, legs swaying back and forth far from the ground, clad in a sleeveless turtleneck sweater and plaid skirt, feet bare, she appeared as nothing more dangerous than a child. Having seen her magically decimate a couple of street gangs, not to mention some of the stuff she got up to in the bedroom, Carver knew that was definitely not the case.

     He leaned in the doorway for a moment until she caught sight of him, then braced himself for her inevitable jump into his arms, for which she did not disappoint. With a gleeful cry she launched herself at him, barely touching the floor on the way. Feeling the elvehn woman's tiny arms and legs wrap themselves around him made everything else in his life vanish. Here, holding her lithe form in his arms, was perfection.

     Carver looked over briefly at the doctor, amused to see the relief wash over his face as he skittered away before turning his attention back to his diminutive girlfriend. Well, it's not that she was really all that small. Small for a human maybe, but about average for an elf. It was him that was big. Big for a human, nearly on par with those damned ox-men Qunari. He'd get teased about that sometimes, whenever they had moved to a new place. About how maybe his mum liked her men a little horny, and then he'd end up having to beat the crap out of somebody until the teasing stopped, then go home and listen to his mother bitch about the blood or holes in his shirt.

     Nickie and Bethany had understood. For all their mother's faults, she had been utterly devoted to their dad. The idea that she would fool around with anybody, let alone a damned Qunari, made him see red.

     “What are you thinking about so hard, ma vehnan?” Merrill asked, reaching up to smooth the wrinkles forming between his brows.

     “How good you would look riding me,” he answered gruffly, revelling in the deep red blush that crept quickly up her neck and into her cheeks and ears. He leaned forward and blew gently across the high pointed tip of her beautiful elvehn ear, one of those things that really got him hard. He adored her ears and just how easily Merrill was stimulated by them.

     She gasped, throwing her head back to expose her neck and ground herself against him, feeling how hard he'd become with her heat so close. One thing about Merrill, she may look all innocent and virginal, but she most definitely was not. In fact, the number of things she had taught him in the bedroom had been astounding. In the bedroom, in the car, in an open field...speaking of which...

     “Come on, baby. Let's go for a drive,” Carver growled.

                                            **********

     Nickie, now dressed in her yellow sundress, white strappy sandals clutched in her hand, fairly skipped her way down the steps into Fenris' basement apartment. She was finally getting to properly dance with her broody elf and at this point she could hardly wait. Not to mention that Varric wanted to talk to her about something and that usually meant extra shifts, which she could seriously use after being off for so long and now with so much stuff to replace.

     It took her a moment to realize that the lights were all off except for one lowly candle perched on Fenris' bedside table, casting barely enough light for her to see him propped up against the headboard, bottle of wine in his hand.

     “Fenris?” she called softly, dropping her shoes at the base of the steps and taking a step towards him. “Fenris, what's wrong?”

     He took a long sip from the neck of the bottle, tipping it to retrieve that last few drops before sending it flying across the room. Luckily it hit some carelessly thrown clothing on the floor, not the wall to shatter everywhere.

     Nickie took another step closer, concern radiating from her. He wondered if she could see the tears that were threatening to fall now, or his scraped and bloody knuckles from his afternoon beatting the crap out of brick walls and a hapless mugger. Apparently she did as she gasped and rushed the last few steps to his bed and sat, cradling his hands in her lap.

     “Fenris!” she exclaimed, looking at him with those wide, storm wracked eyes that he felt he could drown in so easily. “What is it? What happened?”

     He snorted in derision. “Your mother is right.” There, simple answer that didn't need a lot of explanation. He didn't think he could handle explanation right now.

     “My mother is never right. If she told you the sky was blue, you should go outside and check for yourself,” she replied, with a quirky grin.

     Maker above, how he loved that grin. After all the pain and heartbreak he'd seen and felt over the years, to have someone smile simply for the sake of smiling lifted his heart, even if only for a moment. It was something he had come to need over the short time he knew this beautiful creature and he didn't think he'd be the same when it came time to let it go.

     He sighed and leaned back, pulling his hands away from hers, even as he craved her warmth. No, it was time he got back to reality and stop dreaming of a future with her. Her mother had the right of it.

     “You are human, titled among the nobility even if you are currently without property. You have prospects for a good marriage to a man of stability. I am nothing more than an elf, untitled and without a future for someone like you. You need to go out and find someone better suited to you.”

     Nickie stared at him for a full minute before she could react. And that reaction was most definitely not what he was expecting.

     “Fuck you.”

     He lifted his head to look back at her. She had released his hands, balling her own into fists in her lap. Her skin had gone completely white save for two bright circles of red on her cheeks, her lips thinned and near bloodless. Her eyes were almost black, pupils blown wide, and she was shaking the entire bed in her fury.

     Her voice, on the other hand, was deathly quiet.

     “Fuck you and fuck my mother.”

     Nickie had never been so angry, so hurt. And she wasn't even sure exactly who she was angry at, the elf or Leandra. She was shaking, couldn't move for the amount of rage she was feeling. She could feel the prickle of power along her fingertips, magic that was trying to escape in her defense. One hand was beginning to feel decidedly cold while the other burned red hot and the darkness started to lift for the glow of magic around her. Fenris stared, wide eyed, leaning away from her and her power.

     “Don't you ever- _ever_ \- talk like that again!” she said vehemently. “My mother doesn't know shit! She's nothing but a bigoted snob that can't seem to get past the fact that she lives with her brother in a Lowtown slum because she can't be bothered to try and work her way out of it! No, instead she bitches and moans at Carver and I to do it for her. Why do you think we left? We had to get away from her crap before somebody ended up roasted to a crisp! And you! You are the most amazing, talented, gorgeouse person I know and if I ever hear you say that you're nothing but a 'lowly elf' again, I'll...I'lll...I'll kiss you until you can't see straight!”

     Fenris continued to stare, not so much in fear as in shock. She was standing now, pacing back and forth across his small apartment, glowing with residual magic and periodically shaking her hands as flames or ice crystals coated her fingers. Her eyes glowed with inner fire and her cheeks were flushed with heat. Her hair swung wildly as she moved, deep chocolate waves cradling her face.

     She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

     He left the bed slowly, hands out to his sides as he approached her as he would with a wounded animal that would lunge and bite at anything. She stopped pacing as he came nearer though her eyes remained wide and her nostrils flared with her breathing. He could see small sparks of power alighting upon her skin and instead of repulsing him as he believed it would, he was actually turned on by it, his cock stiffening at the thought of it touching his skin. He reached out to gently cup her cheek and the sparks jumped to his hand, a light jolt of electricity that skittered down his spine and directly to his groin. He moaned in appreciation and Nickie pulled back.

     “Oh, Maker, Fenris, I'm sorry! Sometimes when I get really angry my magic goes a little crazy! I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear! I know how you feel about-”

     He slid his fingers along her cheek to her lips, placing a finger along their softness to still her words. “No,” he said softly. “It is I that should apologize. I let my melancholy get the best of me when I should not.”

    Nickie's breath caught in her throat. His finger, ridged with callouses from welding and tasting faintly of lyrium and wine, was a hot brand across her lips. Without thinking, eyes unwavering from his, she pursed her lips and placed a gentle kiss upon the digit. When his breath caught but he did not pull away, she slowly brought her teeth to bear, gently taking the pad of his finger with her teeth, scraping it lightly.

     Fenris shuddered with the feel of it. His hand slid back to the nape of her neck, the other around her waist, pulling her in close. Her own hands reached out to grip his hips and he moaned at the extra sensation of her touch. It was almost too much but he didn't want it to stop. Softly, almost as gently as a breeze, he touched her lips with his own, the barest brushing of skin.

     The world froze. The light touch of Fenris' lips made Nickie's heart stop, and yet also running at top speed. Breath caught in her throat, eyes blown wide, she stared into his heavy lidded emerald eyes and smiled before lunging forward.

     It was all lips and teeth and hands, like two teenagers that really had no clue what they were doing, but Fenris had never felt anything so wonderful in his life. Her arms had wrapped themselves up around his neck, breasts against his chest hot and heavy. His fingers had found their way up into her hair, tangling in their soft waves. He never wanted this moment to end.

     Slowly, eyes dazed and lips bruised, Nickie pulled back and smiled almost shyly. “So,” she began softly. “You ready to go dancing?”

     Fenris' lips quirked up, hands sliding forward to return to her cheeks, thumbs brushing along the flush with just a touch of pride. “Yes, Nickie. Anything you wish.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm actually putting a trigger warning on this one for gun violence. There's blood and it gets a little...dark.

     It was a large group that surrounded Nickie as she shakily exited the bank, a sheaf of papers clutched tightly in her fingers.

     “So I got some pretty great news for you there, Princess,” Varric had said with a laugh when she and Fenris had popped into his office at the Hanged Man the night before after a couple of hours of dancing.

     “Unless it's a lot of extra shifts, Varric, I don't want to know. Your idea of great news usually involves writing horrible fiction about my life,” Nickie replied, sitting at his desk, pulling Fenris down to sit next to her.

     “Now come on! My stories aren't that bad. Their at least better than Isabela's.” he retorted, pushing a small piece of paper towards her. “No. This is something completely different. Take a look.”

     Nickie reached across the desk and took the paper, reading, then re-reading, putting the paper down, lifting it back up and reading again just to be sure. “Varric? What is this and why is it made out to me?”

     “That, my dear girl, is the money the insurance guys are paying you for your damaged art and supplies. Added to that is the purchase price of three pieces that weren't too badly ripped that a dealer friend of mine wanted.”

     Fenris, upon seeing Nickie's face pale and fingers begin to shake, slipped the check out of her fingers and read it himself. Nearly one million sovereigns. He read it again, just to be sure. No, there it was, still printed there in small type. Made out to Nichola Hawke. “Explain this, dwarf,” Fenris growled.

     Varric leaned back, hands cradled over his gut, feet up on his desk. “Insurance, my good elf. The house and its contents are insured for a pretty penny, Princess' art stuff in particular. Blondie and I managed to save a fair bit of it and had it reframed by my art dealer friend. She took one look at Nickie's paintings and asked about buying prices. Got some really good prices for three of them and added it to the final check. It's all Nickie's, every penny. There's another smaller check for Carver for his furnishings, but nothing on this scale."

     And so another trip to Kirkwall Savings and Loan, this time as a client. Varric had accompanied her to make sure nobody tried to swindle her. Carver had come along, if only to deposit his own money, dragging Merrill along with him. Anders, with time off from the hospital, had invited himself along, though Nickie was happy to have him there. And, of course, Fenris went without saying.

     Leaving the bank they were a happy, excited group. The dwarf, Mr. Anso, had spotted Fenris right away and came rushing over to discuss his art piece, which distracted Varric with talk of contracts and future endeavours. Carver and Merrill were walking ahead, arm in arm, deciding if they should go to dinner first or buy a new bed. Nickie had eyes for nothing but the papers in her hands, outlines for her new bank account and a few investments that Varric- and even Anders- had talked her into. Fenris and Anders had eyes for nothing but Nickie.

     So no one noticed the men that slunk from the alley.

     “Give us all your money!”

      It was a thick voice, almost a burble, wet with phlegm. The group froze and looked up, spotting six men, dishevelled and dirty, their faces covered in weeping sores.

     “Shit,” Anders muttered. “They've got the Blight. Don't let them touch you.”

     “I said your money!” their apparent leader screeched. And this time it was a screech, almost animal like in it's tone.

     Nickie being Nickie stepped forward, away from the grasping fingers of Fenris and Anders. “We have none, Serrah. We just deposited everything we had.”

     Carver saw the gun coming up before everyone else and was on the move before the thought reached his head. A shot rang out, the dirty men were scattering, but it was okay 'cause he was there in front of his sister.

      _Shit!_ It was like that one time he had tripped at the garage and one of the guys had accidentally skewered him with a screwdriver, but so many times worse, radiating out from his stomach. He tried to tell his legs to run, to chase after the guy like Fenris was doing, but instead his knees decided that the ground was a much better option and then he was down, looking up into the frightened faces of Nickie and Merrill. That wasn't so bad. He liked looking at Merrill. Planned to spend his whole life doing it. Though he'd rather she were smiling.

     They got replaced by the doc and that wasn't as good. He was yelling something but Carver couldn't hear him, like the volume control was busted. All he could hear was a slowing thump from somewhere nearby. It was deafening at first, but it was getting quieter as it slowed and that was better.

     Anders was elbow deep in Carver's blood, magic pulsing to keep the boy among the living while he searched for the bullet. He couldn't seal the wound while the round was still in his body, not that he could completely seal anything anyway, with an ambulance on it's way, thanks to Varric and his cell phone. Fucking Fenris, instead of sticking around to help, had run off after the Blighted gun toting idiots, and he really could have used the elf's thin, nimble fingers right about now. Nickie had her hands full trying to calm Merrill and keep her from going full on Blood Mage and exacting revenge, and Varric's fingers were just too short and stuby.

      _There_! His finger tip brushed something obviously not part of the body and he concentrated on reaching it, gripping it between his finger tips and slowly, carefully pulling it out. He took a look at it and swore softly to himself. He didn't know shit about calibres or anything like that, but even he could tell when one had fragmented on the inside. The best he could do now was keep the boy from bleeding out before the paramedics got here and pray.

                                            ********************

 

     Fenris came back to himself in a Darktown alley, blood spatter everywhere and the bodies of two of their attackers on the ground at his feet. Oh fuck he thought to himself. How did I- NICKIE! He spun and ran as fast as his legs could take him. He had somehow covered miles running after the Blighters that had attacked them, lost in a red haze of rage. Meanwhile Nickie had been shot at and could be dying or -Maker forbid!- dead in the streets.

     Flashing lights met him in front of the bank, police and ambulance sitting by the curb. He searched but spotted none of his friends until the ambulance pulled away, no longer blocking his view of them on the sidewalk.

     He and Nickie spotted each other at the same time and while his heart stilled in relief, her reaction was not something he was expecting.She stalked towards him, anger palpable in the glow emmanting from his fists. She strode up to him and slapped him as hard and fast as she could.

     He froze, his head thrown back and cheek both numb and burning at the same time. He didn't move, didn't reach up to touch it, just paused there for a moment before turning back to face her.

     Nickie's eyes glowed with rage. How dare he? He'd run off after a bunch of Blighters, put himself in danger of getting hurt or catching the Blight, not to mention that they had needed him to help save her brother's life. Tears burned at the back of her throat and she nearly slapped him again.

     “What happened to you?”she yelled at him. “We needed you! Carver got shot and Anders was trying to save him and you run off after them? What the fuck for?”

     By now the tears were falling in earnest and Fenris paled at the mention of her brother. “Will he...?”

     By then Anders had approached and wrapped an arm around Nickie's shoulders. “Not sure. I did everything I could but the bullet fragmented. He'll need surgery to find it all and it came really close to his spine.”

     Fenris glared at the arm around Nickie but she didn't seem to notice, turning in to the doctor's chest and resting her cheek there. He turned her away, leading her towards his car so he could drive her to the hospital.

     The elf took a step towards them but a hand reached out to pull him back. He turned with a snarl to find Aveline there, iron grip on his upper arm and no nonsense look on her face. When she looked down and saw all the blood, she frowned. “You and I, Mister Blackfeather, need to have a talk.”

                                        *******************

 

     The waiting room at Grey Memorial was anything but. The walls were painted what Nickie supposed was a soothing peach colour. The multitude of chairs were made of blonde wood and covered in soft tan fabric. There was a television set to the new channel hanging from one wall, snack machines lining another with a microwave and stand between them. Soft pastel prints dotted whatever wasn't covered.

     It was like being inside Mr. Goodbar.

     Nickie was sitting carefully with Varric at her side, Merrill lying on the other side with her head in Nickie's lap while Nickie slowly stroked her hair. Anders had used his position at the hospital to get a viewing spot in the operating room. Currently they were trying to remove what turned out to be five fragments of the original bullet.

     Varric had called Nickie's mother, wishing now that he hadn't. He had barely begun expalining what had happened before she had begun screaming for her daughter, then when Nickie had gotten the phone from the dwarf even he could hear the acid dripping from the woman's tongue. By the time the woman had hung up Nickie was shaking so badly that Varric had had to save the little cell phone dropping from her fingers to smash on the floor.

     Now she waited, staring out at nothing, petting at the elf's head in her lap. Varric shifted in his chair, feet swinging off the floor. He sucked at this sort of thing, the waiting, unable to do anything but sit and pretend that everything would be all right.

     When his cell phone rang he jumped up, walking out of the room and down the hall before answering. “This better be damned important,” he growled.

     “Varric it's me.”

     He slumped slightly at the authoritative female voice on the other end. “Aveline. Please tell me you have some good news. I'm not sure I can handle any more bad.”

     He could hear the pause before she spoke next. “Have you talked to their mother?” she asked.

     “Yeah, and I hope never to have to do that again for the rest of this life and the next,” he grumbled, causing the cop to chuckle wryly.

     “I hear you.” She paused again before continuing. “We had to place Fenris in custody.”

     “What?” Varric cried, garnering shushing noises from a couple of nurses. He flipped them off and wandered farther down a side hall. “What do you mean you placed him in custody?”

     “He killed two men, Varric. What did you expect me to do?”

      “Two guys that tried to kill us! We still don't know if Carver's going to make it and what about the other four? Was one of the dead guys the shooter? What the fuck woman!”

     “Varric,” Aveline growled over the line. “I will do everything in my power to get him home but he was covered in blood. It wasn't self-defense, he chased them down. There's only so much I can do.”

     Varric lost his anger suddenly and his shoulders slumped. “All right, Aveline. All right. But I can't be the one to tell her, okay? I can't...I just can't.”

     “It's fine, Varric,” the woman replied softly. “I'll come by the house tomorrow to talk with her. In the meantime, just be there. She's going to need you.”    

     “Yeah. I know. I'll try.”

                                          *******************

 

      Nickie could almost feel her coming down the hall, a wave of hatred pushing before her. With a sigh, Nickie lifted Merrill's now sleeping head from her lap and rested it in her seat as she stood. Squaring her shoulders and turning, Nickie saw her mother stalk into the room, trailed by an antsy Uncle Gamlen.

     She could see where Carver got his looks. Tall, statuesque with dark greying hair and pale skin now flushed with rage, grey blue eyes flashing. The woman stalked to her daughter and slapped her roughly across the face. Gamlen grabbed at his sister but not before the ring on her hand sliced across her daughter's cheek, blood droplets flying.

     “You bitch! This is your fault! You're supposed to watch out for him, keep him safe but you're no better at that then you were with Bethany!” Spittle flew as she screamed in Nickie's face.

     Anders walked in to this and rushed to Nickie's side, taking her hands in his and pulling her away. “Mrs. Hawke if you can't behave I will have security remove you and your brother can keep you informed of your son's progress.”

     Leandra drew herself up haughtily. “Amell. I will never go by the same name as this bitch again.”

     Merrill, now awakened by the noise and Varric returning from the hall both gasped in dismay but Nickie merely slumped in defeat. “Whatever, Mother.” She turned back to her frined. “How is he, Anders?”

     Anders smiled wanly. At least he had some good news to give her. “He'll live, Nickie. The big concern right now is how close the bullet fragments were to his spinal chord. There was a nick that I was able to surreptitiously fix with a little sleight of hand-” he wiggled his fingers “-but there's still the possibility of spinal damage. The next forty-eight hours will be the tell.”

     “You have to save him!” Leandra cried, reaching out and grabbing Anders arm. He looked at her coldly, eyes traveling from the woman's face to her hands and back. She didn't seem to get the message until he pulled away.

     “We will do everything we can, Mrs. Ha- Amell. That's all I can promise.”

     “Come along, Leandra,” Gamlen said, gently pulling her away from the group. “We'll go get some coffee then wait for more news.”

     “No,” she said, drawing herself up into her previous imperious state. “We will return to the apartment to wait. Nothing can be served by sitting here with the rabble.” She turned and stormed away, Gamlen giving an apologetic look to his niece before following his sister.

     As one, the group breathed a sigh of relief then gave each other sheepish grins, and all Anders could think was _What an unmitigated Bitch!_

     “Can we see him, Anders?” Merrill asked softly, clutching at the doctor's coat.

     “Soon Merrill,” he replied with a sigh. “They'll move him to the Critical Care floor and then we'll talk to his doctors and see him. I promise.”

     Merrill flung herself into Nickie's arms and began crying, while Nickie soothed the little elf. “Oh Nickie! He'll live! He'll be okay, just you see!”

     All Nickie could do was pray she was right.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is not what I had planned, I swear! Nobody is listening to me! They're all just doing whatever the fuck they want now and I take absolutely no responsibility anymore.

     Nickie sat curled in on herself next to Carver's bed. It'd been four days since the shooting, her brother finally being declared stable and, with time and rehab, would even walk again. He was sleeping at the moment and would be for some time according to his doctor's and Anders.

    _Anders_.If it hadn't been for her friend she didn't think she could have handled any of this. He'd stayed with Carver during surgery, then had held her hand and sat by her side almost constantly since. When Aveline had let her know about Fenris in jail, ha held her hand as she ranted and raved at the officer. Angry as she was that the elf had run after the perpetrators instead of staying and helping, he didn't deserve to be imprisoned trying to defend his friends.

     Mother had been by a few times, either crying about her 'poor, broken baby' or accusing Nickie of being a horrible sister and not taking care of her brother properly. It was better when Gamlen joined her, patting her hand and fetching coffee and snacks.

     Nickie grinned lightly to herself. She hadn't liked Gamlen when they had first arrived in Kirkwall. He'd been slimy, like a used car salesman, and had gambled away the Amell estate and fortune. But now, when the family had needed him, he'd done his best to be there.

     She shivered and drew her arms around herself, rubbing her scarred palm along her skin. It was times like this that she really missed Bethany. Her sister, calm in the face of adversity, would have been able to talk Nickie into going home, at least into going outside to get some real air. Her baby sister would have taken her hand and led her out into the sun.

     Then walked right back inside to sit at her twin's bedside.

     “Nickie?”

     She didn't hear the soft croak of a voice at first, taking a moment or two before she realized that Carver's eyes were opened and watching her.

     “Carver!” she cried, standing quickly and moving closer. “Are you thirsty? Do you need a nurse? I can-”

     “No,” he gasped, then continued with a sigh. “No, Nickie. Go home.”

     She stared for what felt like several minutes, not sure she'd heard what she had. “Did you just-?”

     “Go home. I don't...I don't want you here, underfoot all the time.”

     She reached out to touch her brother's arm, but he yanked it away, angry. “Get out!” he yelled, just as Anders walked into the room.

     “So what's all this then?” he asked cheerily. Being an ER doctor, he had perfected the believability of false cheer. “Nick? Why don't you head out to the waiting room and I'll be there in a couple of minutes to take you home to eat and a nap, okay?”

     Eyes beginning to brim with tears, she nodded and pulled her arms around herself once more before walking away, head bowed. She didn't turn back to her brother, afraid of what she might see.

     Anders meanwhile had focused his attention back on the boy. Doctor's analytical mind checked his heart rate monitors and glucose bags while also noting that his colour seemed a touch elevated and he was agitated.Not the best conditions for his recovery. “All right, Carver. What was that about?”

     “She needs to go home and she won't unless I make her,” he replied softly, raising his eyes to meet the doctor's. “I just...I need everybody to just leave me alone.”

     Anders frowned down at the prone man, arms crossed and tapping a rhythm against his chin. “Are you sure, Carver? I can take her home for a few hours then bring her back if you'd prefer.”

     “No.” Carver was resolute. “I don't want her, or anybody, around right now. I'll call her when I want to see her again.”

     He watched Carver for a few moments before moving away again, towards the exit and Nickie beyond it. “All right, Carver, I'll let her know. But you will be seeing more of me whether you like it or not. I'm assigned to your floor and I'll be checking in regularly.”

                                         ********************

 

     Fenris paced his small apartment, growling low under his breath. He'd finally been released that morning with a court date to appear in a few months. He'd sped home as fast as his legs could take him- his car having been driven home by Varric at some point during the last few days- only to find that Nickie wasn't there. His brain insisted that she was probably at the hospital with her brother, but his jealousy insisted on picturing her in Anders' arms.

  _Step, step, step, wall, turn, step, step_ He new she really wasn't even close to so fickle that as soon as they had had their first problem she would jump to another, but that horrible little voice in the back of his head that nattered at him about not being good enough for her, not being free enough, called up all sorts of disturbing images. Her arms around his neck, his at her waist. Lips touching, hot and tasting at each other. Legs around the other's, clothing shucked, thrusting, panting-

      _SLAM_!

     Fenris looked down at his fist, barely noting the pain radiating from his knuckles as he realized he had just punched his hand into a cinder block wall. A deep sigh as he pulled his hand from the crumbling brick, blood dripping to the floor with a soft plunk.

     He couldn't stop, the images of Nickie with the tall blond doctor writhed in his head with no end in sight. Scooping up his travelling pack, he hurriedly filled it with tees and jeans, whatever he could find. He'd spend some time out at the studio, away from the house and his traitorous thoughts.

     And maybe, once he'd screwed up his courage, he'd call her...maybe.

                                         **************

 

     They sat in Anders' little Subaru, engine idling in the hospital parking lot, as Nickie cried and Anders held her tight against his chest. It was killing him, having her so close to him, her tiny body shaking against his.

    _What the fuck is wrong with you, you perverted old man!_ he berated himself, trying desperately to will down his slowly growing erection. But, damn it, she just smelled so good and fit so perfectly in his arms. He leaned forward slightly, ostensibly to rub his hands along her spine, and breathed deeply of her hair. _Oh fuck, she smells so good. Why do I do this to myself? I'm a grown fucking man, not some hormone hopped up teenager._

     Slowly Nickie's tears dried up and she leaned back in Anders' arms. Reluctantly he released her though she didn't move back. She sniffed loudly, eyes puffed and nose red from crying. “You still love me, right Anders?”

     He stared down at her in shock for a moment. “Of course I love you, Sweetheart!” he exclaimed, reaching out to rub a tear from her cheek with a thumb. “You are the most amazing, beautiful person I know. The fact that you want anything to do with me amazes me daily. Why would you ask such a thing?”

     “Oh I don't know,” she replied with an almost manic chuckle. “My mother is going so far as to change her name so she won't be associated with me. I tried going in to see Fenrisin jail once Carver was cleared but he refused to see me. The only friends I've seen with regularity over the past four days have been you and Merrill and that's only because you both happened to be in the hospital. And now my brother wants me gone too. I thought maybe you'd all realized what kind of pariah I really am and high tailed it away.”

     “Oh, Sweetheart,” Anders cooed softly, pulling her in close to her chest once again. “Never. I won't speak for you mother- truth be told I came very close to setting her hair on fire more than once- but the rest of us all love you dearly. They're just nervous, uncertain on how to express how they're feeling. Can you picture Aveline getting all weepy? Or Varric?” Nickie giggled, which was just the reaction he was looking for. “Come on. We'll head on home and I'll make you a cup of hot chocolate while you shower, and we'll veg out in front of reality shows for the rest of the night. 'Survivor: Antiva' my ass! Send 'em to the Korcari Wilds and see how long those pansies last.”

     At that point Nickie was laughing into his chest, cheered enough that she began to pull away...at the same moment that Anders had leaned down to brush a kiss to the top of her hair. The resulting smash of heads was both painful and jarring. Swearing, laughing, patting at each other's hair and face, neither really seemed to realize what was happening until Nickie's lips met his.

     Anders froze, eyes wide, staring in shock at the lids and lashes of the tiny woman now planted firmly in his lap. _I hit my head so hard I died_ , he thought to himself, petrified. _I died and the Maker has taken pity on me._ His eyes slid closed as she began to move into the kiss, nipping lightly at his lower lip. _Thank you, Maker, wherever you are._

    _What the fuck am I doing?_ Nickie thought to herself as her body continued to assault the doctor's. _I am making out with my best friend while the man that I...Fenris is sitting in a jail cell. I am the worst person ever._ But even as she thought this, her hand snaked up Anders chest and around to the back of his neck, pulling him down into her mouth. He tasted like the apple he'd had at lunch and the tingle of lyrium from his magic that called to her own. She could feel that tingle slide it's way down to her groin, now with her skirt hiked up around her waist and pressed tightly against his hot, hard length.

     And _Oh fuck_ was it ever hard. He groaned against her mouth, hips flexing slightly up to her heat, hands gripping tight to her hips. She didn't know what she was doing, why she was acting like this. She just knew that she needed this, needed _him_ , right now.

     “Stop!” he suddenly gasped, pulling her away from him, causing her to moan in disappointment. “Nickie, love, please stop.”

     She curled up, top of her head pressed into his chest and arms wrapping around herself, shaking. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Anders! I don't know what came over me! I just-”

     He placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face to look him in the eye. He was smiling. It was small and a little sad and worried, but smiles were good, right? “Don't be sorry. Trust me, I was enjoying myself,” he chuckled. “But I don't want something to happen that you'll regret. I want you to be ready if you want to be with me that way, not lashing out or searching for something. But later, if you're still...interested...then maybe we can try again.”

     Nickie watched him with wide eyes before leaning forward and kissing him softly on the lips. “All right, Anders. We'll do this your way.”

     She wiggled back into her seat, already missing the thickness that had been resting between her legs, righting her skirt and belting herself in. She giggled softly when she spied him trying to readjust...things and had a sudden picture of Anders nude before her.. then Fenris standing next to him...then the two men...

  _Oh My!_


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also known as 'What was I thinking?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a lot shorter than usual but it was driving me insane and didn't want to come out so I finally just gave up and am posting it as is. I'll probably go back and rewrite this at a later date but for now I'm throwing it out there.

_What the fuck was I thinking?_

     Fenris pulled himself a little smaller, knees drawn to his chest and arms tucked between legs and chest in the back seat of his car, parked on the street near his studio, shivering. It wasn't really all that cold but it it was though ice had crept into his bones and refused to melt. He had pulled the blankets he had once used out of the trunk and coccooned himself to no avail.

     His mind drifted to Nickie and he shuddered further. Why had he run after those bastards? Why hadn't he stayed? Made sure Nickie hadn't been hit? That someone else hadn't? It was this sort of assinine mental break that had made him quit Emergency Dispatching, had him hiding in studios and working alone. She could have been hurt, dying, and he wouldn't have realized until it was too late.

     He didn't deserve her. She should be with the damned doctor and leave him to wallow here in his car, alone. A picture of her flitted across his mind, her smile bright, eyes sparkling, soft fingered hand with it's rough palm scar caressing his cheek. No, he couldn't leave her to the doctor. He...needed her.

     He was going to have to talk to her. Return to the house. Appologize.

     But for now he would wallow. It's what he deserved.

                                           **************

 

_What in the Void is wrong with me?_

     Nickie lay on the sofa in the living room, where she had taken up residence until her new mattress could be delivered, trying desperately to get some sleep and forget this day happened. _How could I have done that? In his lap! I crawled in his damned lap!_

     She reached up, pulling her fingers through her hair, resting her palms over her eyes. _Now he's right upstairs and all I can think about is climbing his stairs and crawling into bed with him when less than a week ago all I wanted was to do that with Fenris! Oh who the fuck am I kidding? I want them both in that bed and what is wrong with me!_

     The mental picture of a naked Fenris lying with a naked Anders had Nickie squirming, pressing her thighs together to try and relieve the building pressure, not that that helped any. Sighing in defeat, she let her hand drift down to cup herself as she pictured them.

     Fenris was built thick for an elf, though slight compared to someone like her brother, his tattoos a beuatiful swirling contrast on his darker skin. He was well-muscled but not overly so, sculpted. She pictured his hands running across her own pale skin, cupping her breasts.

     Anders, on the other hand, was built tall and relatively thin. Because of his long nights at the hospital he had little time to get out into the sun, his skin paler than even her own. His fingers were long and thin, a piano players fingers that gripped and pulled between her legs with a dextrous touch.

     Her own fingers slid beneath the waistband of her pajama bottoms and slipped between her slick lips to caress her clit. The thought of Anders' fingers doing this sent an electric jolt through her body. Her other hand drifted up under her shirt to flick at a nipple, her mind's eye filling in Fenris' hand for her own.

     It had been too long since the last time Nickie had felt anything even remotely this intense, even with an actual partner. Most of her previous experience had been quick fumbles with local boys, all tongue and saliva and frantic thrusting. This imagined coupling was long and slow and powerful. In short order Nickie was keening softly under her breath, unable to keep the noises to herself but trying desperately not to be heard by the man upstairs. Soon everything was tightening, climbing ever higher until she fell over the cliff's edge, stars sparking beneath her lids until darkness descended and pulled her into sleep.

                                             *****************

 

    _I am a perverted old man_ Anders thought to himself in the dark of his loft. His bed, not much more than a mattress thrown on the floor, was situated over the living room and the soft moans of Nickie's...personal ministrations were filtering up through the ventilation ducts.

     He tried not to listen, he really did, but damned if she didn't sound absolutely wanton, causing his cock to stir and throb. He considered going down there and taking her in hand, as it were, but he was afraid. What if he did and she pushed him away? What if it ruined their friendship? He loved Nickie wholeheartedly but he could sit back and watch from afar if it might destroy what they had.

     He groaned when her voice rose in pitch, nearly a squeal muffled by a blanket or possibly her hand. He pushed his balnket away and took himself in hand, stroking in time to Nickie's cries. She was close, very close and he tried to match himself to her. He pictured her bent on her knees between his legs, wrapping her lips around his cock, moaning. _Oh Maker, Nickie, yes!_

     He could almost feel the soft silk of her thick chocolate hair brushing his thighs, silken fingertips gripping his legs. Below him, he could hear her moaning change, speed in tempo, and he knew she was close. With her final gasp his balls drew up tight to his body and he came with a cry, spurting hot fluid across his hand and chest, breath coming in hard, sharp pants.

     He lay still, cum cooling on his stomach, catching his breath and staring at the ceiling _. I am going straight to the Void for this, I swear._


	21. Chapter 21

     Three days of awkward looks, silences and babbling before Nickie and Anders finally seemed to settle back into their old routine. There was a bit more cuddling on the couch, watching old movies. Popcorn fights breaking out whenever Humphrey Bogart kissed Lauren Bacall were not uncommon.

     Three months of diligent work and ignoring his cell phone before Fenris finally worked up the courage to go back to the house. And, of course, no one was home. In the end he picked up a few items of clothing, left others, and wrote Nickie a short note of apology.

     She called him that night. The conversation was short and somewhat stilted but it was the beginning of a string of calls and text messages that had them nearly as close as before.

     Six months later and Nickie closed escrow on her mother's childhood home. It needed a lot of work, having sat idle for years, but with a couple more art sales and the dividends from the investments Varric had made on her behalf, it would all be covered nicely.

     Nine months later and Nickie was preparing for her first big show. She would be sharing the floor with a sculptor in the gallery where some of her pieces had already sold. When she asked about the artist, Varric had merely smiled and patted her hand telling her she'd like him and left it at that.

     Currently Nickie was staring into her closet and cursing it's inability to create a semi-formal dress out of thin air. Everywhere she looked were jeans and shorts and long broomstick skirts, tank tops and tees, mostly paint spattered.

     Kneeling on the floor behind her, riffling through half-packed boxes, Isabela was searching diligently for Nickie's jewelry. When Nickie let out her third exasperated sigh she gave up, standing and wrapping an arm around the girl's waist. “All right. What seems to be the problem here?”

     “Nothing I have is good enough and there's no time to go shopping and I should have thought of this before and-”

     “Okay, hun. Deep breath...deeper...come on, let me see those tits- stop laughing at me damn it!- and let's take a good look at what's in here.”

     Nickie watched as her friend slowly perused her closet, digging deeper than Nickie had thought was possible, upper half lost in clothing, taught bubble butt and legs flashing- completely on purpose, of course.

     A muffled “Ah Ha!” and Izzy emerged, pulling a long forgotten garment bag out with her. She looked at Nickie in triumph until she saw the sadness well up in her eyes.

     “Kitten! What is it?” “That's...that's the dress I wore to Bethany's funeral,” she replied softly, hands shakily taking the bag from Izzy's fingers.

     “Then I'm going back in. If I don't come out for air in ten minutes send a search party that doesn't mind mouth to mouth,” Izzy declared, trying to deflect from her faux pas and make her friend laugh.

     Nickie's lips quirked up in a slight grin but her heart wasn't in it. She was peering in the small plastic window of the garment bag, eyes caressing the dress beneath. It was a fairly simple sheath dress, a couple of darts sewn in after the purchase to give it a bit more shape and hemmed so as to actually reach her knees not mid-calf. Made of fine linen and lined in silk, it had been expensive even at the second-hand shop where she'd found it, but Bethany was worth the expense.

     “Izzy? Could you find the plastic tub in there labelled 'lingerie' and pull out the strapless black bra and panties?”

     “Isabela chuckled. “Really, Kitten? I can find pretty panties during a hurricane, usually with a receptive backside attached.” She smiled to herself, finding the bin easily and bringing the whole thing out, riffling through the silk, satin and lace contained therein.

     “Oh, Kitten,” she sighed, handing the requested garments over before returning to her pawing. “Why are these hidden away? You'd look so beautiful in all of this.” She held up a red demi-cup and purred.

     Meanwhile Nickie had stripped and was wiggling into the black strapless. “I used to, all the time. But then I started to wonder who in the Void was I wearing them for? Nobody ever saw them but me and the cotton stuff just breathes better anyway.”

     Fitted into the black lingerie, Nickie raised her arms and twirled for Isabela's approval. “Your left needs a bit of a lift in the cup- there you go, perfect. And who cares if no one else sees them. It's a bit of girly luxury, helps you feel sexy.”

     Nickie unzipped the garment bag then paused. “You're right. Why shouldn't I feel sexy? Even if I'm not...you know...”

     “Getting any.”

     “Izzy! That's...that's not...” Nickie swallowed, a hot blush creeping rapidly up her chest to her cheeks and ears. Which she didn't really understand, seeing as how she had been completely naked in front of the woman not two minutes before.“Yes. Even if I'm not getting any.”

     “Kitten, after we do you up tonight you'll be getting all you could want and more.”

                                             *************

 

     Nickie felt like a child playing dress up by the time Izy was done with her. The sheath dress looked just as good as when she had put it away years before, crisp and perfectly fitted. From the jewelry box came an emerald and diamond chip earring and pendant set with white gold- a birthday gift sent by a grandmother she had never met years ago. Isabela had even manged to work her hair into a slick chignon with a few curled wisps framing her face and apply makeup so subtly that you almost couldn't tell it was there. Borrowed black pumps and clutch and even Nickie had to admit she looked pretty damned good.

     Isabela, now only an inch or two taller than her friend, took Nickie's arm in hers and led her from the room. “Well damn! If you didn't have somewhere to be I'd be all over that ass!”

     Nickie giggled, trying desperately not to wobble on her heels. “Stop it! You know that if I were to be tempted by a beautiful set of tits they would be yours, but alas it is just not meant to be.”

     Varric was waiting in the kitchen, slugging back a cup of coffee as the women entered. Dressed in a charcoal grey designer suit- with his shirt buttoned all the way and a tie no less, for the occassion. Nickie was pleasantly shocked at how handsome her friend looked. Deeply tanned from the sun, strawberry blond hair brushed to a sheen and neatly trimmed, he looked like a model in a dwarven magazine. Assuming they even published that sort of thing. Even Isabela whistled, calling him 'gorgeous' and a 'diamond in the rough'.

     He just grinned and held out his arm, a little higher than for another dwarf but it wasn't too awkward, even with Nickie in heels. Yay for starting out short! “Shall we, my Lady? Your adoring public awaits,” he chuckled gruffly. Had he not had an adience he might have...adjusted something. In his eyes, Nickie had never looked more stunning.

                                          **********************

 

     The gallery was tucked between two highend clothing stores in the Hightown Market. It was relatively small but well situated, a block or so from the Viscount's Keep and no more than five from the Chantry, so when all was said and done all of Hightown had to pass by on a daily basis.

     Tonight the air of the place was festive. Tiny lights adorned the windows and trees along the sidewalk. Art pieces were placed in the windows, covered in velvet cloth with special spotlights ready to highlight them. While the major unveiling would happen inside the gallery, two of the owners assistants would pull back the velvet covers at the same time for people outside. Apparently they were expecting a big turn out, and not everyone would fit in the small gallery.

     Inside was a small vestibule where drinks and hors d'ouevres had been laid out, pocket doors keeping the masses out of the main room until it was time to unveil. People were already milling about, sipping at champagne as they discussed a few other pieces that were up for sale around them.

     Varric pulled Nickie farther into the room as she dragged her feet, suddenly completely unsure about how to deal with the attention to her work. Okay, none of these people knew who she was...yet, but they would and she was suddenly a bundle of nerves. If Varric hadn't had a tight grip on her forearm she might have attempted a mad dash back home. Of course, it helped that she had a hard time navigating with these damnable heels and probably would have broken her neck during her flight.

     “Varric! How good of you to come!” a cultured voice called from behind them.

      Nickie turned to find another dwarf, curvaceous and lush, with chestnut hair and matching eyes, perfect skin and the fullest lips Nickie had ever seen. Dressed in deep green satin, she was stunning.

     “Bianca,” Varric replied with a smile and Nickie mentally stuttered. _Bianca? As in, 'this is my favourite weapon to keep away the riff raff' Bianca? Holy shit!_ “Allow me to introduce my protege, Nichola Hawke.”

     Nickie nearly missed the fact that he was introducing her to the woman and thrust her hand out quickly. “Nickie, not Nichola. My mother calls me Nichola and I detest it.”

     She smiled, a beautiful stunning smile and returned the handshake. “Bianca Davri. Your work is just amazing, and I've been in the business for over a decade. I was so flabbergasted at what Varric brought me that I bought them on the spot. They're in my private collection but I've been using them to help advertise this show. I'm hoping that we'll get a good turn out and a few more sales tonight.”

     Nickie just nodded, dumbstruck at the diminutive woman. That she had not only liked her work, but had used it to get a show together just through her for a loop. And it was Bianca, no less. The infamous Bianca.

     “Oh, and here is the other artist! Almost time to begin the unveiling!”

     Nickie turned to follow where Bianca was rushing off to, back to the entry where she and Varric had just come in. Several people had come in at once, Isabela in a short red cocktail dress with Anders in a slightly wrinkled brown suit, Merrill in a bright green skirt and crisp white blouse helping Carver hobble in on a couple of metal crutches, Aveline and Donnic in almost matching navy slacks and jackets.

     And behind them all, white hair gleaming in the lights, was Fenris.


	22. Chapter 22

     He watched her from across the street as she and Varric entered the gallery, fingers twitching with the sudden all consuming need to touch her. He should have realized that she would be here. Really, who else did Varric represent to share the floor with him for this show?

     Fenris sighed deeply and reached to straighten his coat. Nickie had been breathtaking, the sleek black dress and spike heels giving her legs an amazing length that the elf wanted so badly to trace with a finger, or even better his tongue. _Shit_! A certain piece of his anatomy was making itself known at the thought of Nickie splayed out before him and there was no way he could face her with the hard on he was currently sporting.

     His eyes glanced around, finding a nearby alley that was shrouded in shadow. He ducked into it, moving to the far end. Even here in the height of the richest neighbourhood of Kirkwall, the alley's smelled of piss and garbage, making Fenris chuckle. Ensconced in the darkness, he reached down and rubbed lightly at himself, causing him to hiss in pleasure. With a resigned sigh, he unzipped his dark slacks and pulled out his member, spitting in his palm to give a bit of lubrication.

    _Fuck! I cannot live like this_! He thought to himself, spine bowing at the feel of the air on his cock. _I need to...I need to fix this_ Ah! _Get Nickie to forgive me, get her to...to..._ ”Fuck!”

     His cry as he came drew the eye of several people out on the sidewalk to the ally but Fenris could care less. The one person that he wanted to see how she affected him was inside that Maker be damned gallery. And now he had to go and face her.

                                                ***************

 

     “Did you hear that? I think somebody just got off!” Isabela giggled to herself, hanging off of Anders' arm.

     The doctor looked over at her with a frown. “You think everybody is getting off, twenty-four/seven. Probably just some whino ran out of booze and got upset.”

     Isabela leaned in closer to Anders' side and smiled coyly. He had to admit that if anyone could be the embodiment of sex it would be her. Dressed in a form fitting red cocktail dress that dipped so low in both front and back that cleavage was seen pretty much everywhere, stilletto's that were so high that he was certain they were probably illegal across the Free Marches, and enough gold jewelry to buy a new ship, the Rivaini oozed sex appeal to men and women alike.

     Anders, on the other hand, felt like an idiot. He had had to rush when he got to the house after a really crappy thirty-six hour shift. He'd run out of his regular shampoo without realizing and had had to borrow some of Nickie's from the downstairs bathroom so he now smelled of vanilla, cut himself shaving a total of three times and realized that he had never picked up his good suit from the dry cleaners, meaning he was stuck with his slightly rumpled brown twwed that didn't really go with the sea foam green shirt that he had ironed before hand. And, of course, his white shirt had a mustard stain on it, so sea foam it was. He felt like the weird uncle that you felt obligated to invite that tried, and failed, to make a good impression.

     Thankfully, he and Isabela weren't alone at the gallery to see Nickie's first show. Aveline and Donnic joined them soon after they arrived, dressed in almost matching navy slacks and jackets with white shirts and Anders had to snort at the idea that the two police officers had to be in uniform no matter where they went. When a cab pulled up minutes before they were about to head inside to look for the woman of honour, Izzy had let out a very unladylike squeal and rushed to occupants. First was Merrill, dressed in a flowing, bright green skirt with white sleeveless blouse and strappy sandals, wrapped up in Isabela's arms and pressed firmly to her bossom. When Anders caught the sheen of lights reflecting off metal crutches Anders moved forward to give the young man a hand.

     Dressed in blue jeans, white tee and dark suit jacket, with forearm crutches clenched tightly in sweaty palms, Carver Hawke was paler than he used to be, a little thinner with a slight loss of muscle definition, and had Anders smiling broadly.

     “Hey, man,” the doctor greeted him, voice a touch husky. “Good to see you!”

     Carver ducked his head, blushing slightly. “Yeah, well, it's not everyday that your sister is famous.”

     “Does she know you're coming?”

     “Nah. Merrill told me about the show and I kinda decided to come with her at the last minute.”

     The elf in question sidled up to the men, linking her around Carver's waist briefly and giving him a squeeze. “Actually I bullied him into agreeing to come.”

     Even Aveline had to laugh at the idea of the diminutive woman bullying Carver, even handicapped as he was.”Yeah, yeah,” the boy chuckled softly. “Laugh it up but I'm going in and getting a drink.”

     Everyone followed, laughing and ribbing the couple, Anders bringing up the rear, turning slightly before entering. Not far away, standing at the mouth of a nearby alley, was Fenris. With wide eyes and fidgetting fingers at the edge of his coat, he looked...lost. With a resigned sigh Anders quirk up his lips in a smile and motioned for the elf to follow him in, turning and letting the man decide whether to enter or not.

     Fenris straightened his spine, took a deep breath and entered the gallery behind Nickie's friends.

                                                      ************

 

     She was absolutely stunning. She shone with an inner light that drew the eye of every man and woman in the room. And when she turned towards him, stormy eyes alight with mirth, Fenris thought for a brief moment that he was going to have to return to the alley. And then she spied him.

     Her smile vanished to a large 'oh' of surprise, darkly lashed eyes widening and colouring draining from her cheeks. _Fuck! She's not happy I'm here_. She took a step forward then another, the dwarf reaching out to claim the glass of champagne from her hand before it fell from lax fingers. And still she continued, one step, two, until she was standing before him, looking deep into his eyes, no expression from within.

     He swallowed, suddenly sweating and shifting on his feet as she stared at him, as though waiting for him to vanish once again. Not that he could blame her, he was good at disappearing.

     “Nickie,” he whispered and she blinked. “I...How...”

     “Are you coming home tonight?”

     It was completely out of left field. He opened his mouth to say no, to turn and leave and return to his studio/garage and the familiar heat and smell of scorched metal. “Yes.” _What in the Void?_

     And she broke into a wide smile, all thoughts of leaving dissipating in the light of her glee. She reached out to take his hand, rubbing her thumb across his knuckles to soothe him. “Good. I've...missed you.”

     “I have missed you as well.” His voice is soft, eyes hooded beneath a fringe of white hair and Nickie reaches up to brush it away. The light touch of her fingers causes him to shudder.

     “I guess everyone is waiting for us so they can get the show started, huh?”

     Fenris looks at her, smiling at the flush that has crept into her cheeks and the flash in her eye. “Let them wait,” he replies with a grin.


	23. Chapter 23

     Nickie refused to let go of Fenris' hand. Well, okay, she did it long enough to hug her brother and punch him in the arm but other than that, there was no way she was going to let the elf out of her sight. Not that Fenris was arguing mind you. He remained happily plastered at her side, occasionally reaching out to brush stray tendrils of hair off her cheek and basking in her smile.

     It was almost enough to make Anders puke.

     And what sucked was that he had encouraged the elf to come into the gallery. He could have just kept his mouth shut and ignored the forlorn look Fenris had been wearing but _nooooo!_ He just _had_ to go and be a nice guy. Dammit.

     Anders was currently ensconced in a corner nursing a cocktail of unknown origin that was a little too sweet to just throw back and be done with. Around him Nickie's paintings glowed in the gallery lighting, Fenris' metalwork gleaming. The pieces complimented each other so well it was as though they had been created for each other, fantastical metal animals that looked at home in Nickie's surreal landscapes.

     Currently Nickie and Fenris, along with the Gallery owner and Varric, were speaking with an apparent patron, a handsome man approximately Anders own age, with deep auburn hair and eyes so blue he could see them from across the room. They twinkled- honest to the Maker twinkled- and Anders could see that Nickie had gained another follower.

     Anders grinned as he looked at her. Everywhere she went her vivacious beauty and sparkling smile drew everyone around her like moths to a flame. And once there they were happily trapped by her inner light. Anders included.

     He thought back to what happened between them in the hospital parking lot. The feel of her grinding against him, so much heat, the soft touch of her lips, and he had to adjust himself as surreptitiously as possible. Every time he tried to sleep, sometimes twice when it got really bad, he had to take himself in hand just to relieve the pressure. He ached to continue where they had left off but he was a coward. Her friendship was so important to him he didn't want to jeapordize it.

     His eyes drifted to Fenris who was scowling slightly at the man they were speaking with. Maker but he was nearly as beautiful as Nickie! It was an exotic kind of beauty, stark contrasts between his white hair and tattoos and his tanned flesh. His green eyes flashed like bright emeralds, deeper than the forest colour of Merrill's own elvehn green. Anders had to admit, he could see the attraction. Add to that the broody scowl that broke only for Nickie and Anders knew he didn't stand a chance.

     The stranger reached out and placed a hand lightly on Nickie's forearm and she laughed. Such a warm, infectious sound it had Anders smiling even as Fenris scowled at the touch. It was obvious the man was trying to flirt with her but in the end, all she really had eyes for was the elf. She turned to the elf and her smile eased his frown, causing him to quirk up his lips in an answering grin. She could pull a smile from a stone statue of a Dwarven Paragon.

     Nickie turned and saw him watching, waving him over with a smile. Shit! Well, no turning back now. Anders drew himself up and walked over to the group just as Varric and the other dwarven woman moved away, leaving him alone with Nickie, Fenris and the other man.

     She pulled away from the others and threw her arms around his neck, drawing him into a hug. Their height difference was so great that she was standing on the tips of her toes. Anders closed his eyes briefly and breathed deep at the skin of her neck. Maker, does she smell amazing! Like vanilla and citrus. When she pulled back he looked past her to the other two men, both of whom were scowling once again. Anders gave them each a little _fuck you_ grin, which made at least the elf's scowl deepen.

     “Anders! Did you see? Isn't it just amazing?” she said with excitement and the doctor had to laugh.

     “Really, Sweetheart? I never noticed.”

     She hauled back and punched him in the arm with a laugh, causing him to cry out and rub at what would soon enough become a bruise. “Very funny. Haha. Come on, I want to introduce you to someone.”

     She grabbed a hold of his hand and pulled him towards the other men. Fenris had schooled his features into his bland face, emotionless save for a twinkle in his eye as he watched Nickie. The other man smiled politely, nodding at Anders. He wanted to throtle the other man already. Hair perfectly slicked back and shining red and brown in the lights of the gallery, white suit- a white suit for Maker's sake!- perfectly creased and pressed with a blue shirt a shade lighter than the arresting blue of his eyes. “Doctor Warden Anderson meet Sebastian Vael, Prince of Starkhaven.”

    _Well shit!_ Anders thought to himself as he extended his hand towards the man. “Just Anders is fine,” he mumbled.

     “Just Sebastian,” the man replied with a smile, the rolling burr of his Starkhaven accent making him flush. He had always loved the sound of a soft Starkhaven lass calling his name and this was a stark reminder of his younger, wilder days. “Are you affiliated with Grey Memorial?”

     “I'm an E.R. Surgeon there, yes,” Anders replied. “Why?”

     Nickie reached out and slapped his arm again in exasperation. Dammit, that's really going to bruise. “Why? Don't be so damned rude, Anders!” Fenris chuckled from the background and Anders threw him a scowl.

     “It's all right, Miss Hawke, he's certainly welcome to ask,” he said with a laugh. “Actually, Anders, I am backing a possible Free Clinic that would be situated in Darktown and we're looking for doctors to volunteer a few hours a week. There are a large number of refugees from the Blight sickness out of Ferelden that are in desperate need and can not afford the hospital fees or even the church ministries.”

     Anders snorted. “Church ministries! Might as well just put a dollop of honey in your tea and assume it will cure the plague. And you could bypass the sermon, too!”

     Sebastian scowled. “I have found the power of prayer very comforting.”

     “Comforting!”

     Nickie and Fenris exchanged a look, clasped hands and slowly backed away. This was a debate that neither was interested in being in the blast radius of.

     Fenris leaned in and whispered in Nickie's ear, “Drink?”

     “Maker, yes,” she hissed in return, grinning up into his emerald green eyes. “Anything to get away from Mr. Anti-Chantry.”

     They wandered hand in hand off to the refreshments table to snag a couple of champagne flutes then retreated to a far corner where they would be hidden from the crowd.

     “Can you believe it?” Nickie asked, excitement eveident in her voice. “All these people showing interest in your art?”

     “Not just mine,” Fenris replied, leaning close to whisper in her ear, causing a shiver of pleasure to run up her spine. “I believe the prince was so taken he may buy the entire gallery out.”

     Nickie looked into the elf's eyes and noted the brief flash of...what? “Are you jealous?” she asked with amusement, reaching out to lightly rub her thumb across the space between his brows, smoothing the lines there.

     He paused for a moment, thinking, surprised that, yes, he was feeling jealous. Very jealous. “I am...uncertain about us and am afraid of losing you again when I have just regained you in my life.”

     Nickie's breath caught in her throat, seeing the dark, heated look he was giving her and wishing that she had the courage to reach up and pull him to her lips here in the gallery. She thought back to her dreaming of not too long ago and wished for his fingers to travel places that would deffinitely get them arrested in public. She could feel the hot blush creeping up her neck and wished the the gallery were just a little bit darker. “I'm not going anywhere anytime soon,” she said softly. “Except maybe back home, to your room.”

     The elf gasped, pleased that she would be so forward and looked down briefly at his watch. _Maker be Damned!_ Still another hour until the show was over and they had to stay til the end. He leaned his forehead against hers, eyes slitted. “I am counting the minutes until we can be alone.”

     They stayed this way for several minutes until they realized that the din of the gallery patrons had quieted. Looking up Fenris noted that the majority were staring warily towards the front of the gallery and he craned to see what they were looking at.

     It turned out to be a who, a tall blonde woman dressed in the uniform of the Kirkwall Special Forces, with the gold braid of the high command. Her eyes were the sharp, cold blue of ice and her small smile was obviously forced. To her right and a step back was a young man, also blond though of a warmer sand tone and brown eyes a shade lighter than Nickie's hair, also in uniform though without the gold. They were scanning the room, looking at the people gathered, not the art.

     The owner, Bianca Davri, approached the pair and spoke with them briefly, turning at one point during the conversation and motioning towards Nickie and Fenris. The blond looked them over, eyes roaming over the both of them slowly and Nickie shuddered. She did not like this woman. Something aobut her screamed at her instincts to run, run like all the demons of the Fade were on her heels.

     As the woman spoke with the dwarf, Sebastian Vael joined them, obviously on good terms with the woman. Anders sidled closer to Nickie and Fenris, placing himself slightly in front of the pair, for which Nickie was thankful.

     Soon the woman broke from the group around her and approached the artists, her partner and Sebastian following close behind. Nickie noted movement out of the corner of her eye and realized that Varric, Isabela, Aveline and Donnic, Merrill and even her brother had moved in closer, prepared to protect them if necessary. Nickie was briefly touched that she had such special friends.

     “So,” she began, her voice as icy as her demeanor, hands clasped behind her back at military attention. “This is the infamous Nichola Hawke. I have heard quite a bit about you. I am Commander Meredith Stannard of the Kirkwall Special Forces.”


	24. Chapter 24

     Nickie cocked her head slightly to the side and looked up at this woman, for once wishing she were just a touch taller so that she could look her in the eye and not the nostril. So this is the infamous Meredith Stannard, her father's former boss when he abruptly quit his IT job and began roaming Thedas doing computer consulting work from home. He never would tell the entire story about what really happened, just that there had been 'an issue' that he couldn't be a part of.

     Now, with the woman in question standing in front of her, she just couldn't picture her father, smiling and laughing with little Bethany on his shoulders and arm wrapped around Carver's neck, working with this cold stone statue of a woman. Uniform ironed with sharp, precise creases, so dark a blue it seemed to absorb the light of the gallery. Icy blond hair pulled back tight and twisted at the base of her neck. No makeup, no colour save the gold braid of her rank at her shoulder. She showed herself as a calm, cold statue of a woman.

     But with Nickie's strange take on colour, she saw a haze of sick, nasty swirling red.

     She took a step forward, past Anders much to his chagrin though he stayed close to her back, pulling Fenris up with her then extended her hand towards the woman. “Good evening, ma'am. Yes, I'm Nickie Hawke and this is the other artist who's work is here tonight, Fenris Blackfeather.”

     Fenris and the Commander eyed each other, each assessing the other. “I've seen your work at the Kirkwall Savings and Loans Mr. Blackfeather. Very nice,” she stated before dismissing the elf. Fenris scowled but held his tongue. This woman was obviously here for Nickie and he needed to concentrate on protecting her.

     The man that came in with the Commander stepped forward, hand extended. “Good evening Serrah Hawke. I am Captain Cullen Rutherford. A pleasure.”

     Nickie took the man's hand and smiled at the firm grip. This man exuded a happy gold, very much like the colour of his eyes. It was friendly and drew you in. She liked him right away. “Captain Rutherford, a pleasure.”

     “Cullen, please,” he chuckled. “Anyone calls me Captain Rutherford and I think my father is behind me, judging what I do.” Nickie laughed softly at his self-deprecation and Meredith grimaced before coughing to regain the group's attention.

     “So these are your landscapes, Serrah Hawke? They are...interesting.”

     The disdain was nearly palpable, dripping from the woman's mouth. _Why in the Void are you here if you don't like what you see?_ Nickie thought to herself. The woman was looking around at the walls with a sneer of disdain and Nickie could feel her blood pressure rise. As did the others it seemed as both Fenris and Anders Straightened and came a hair closer, fists clenched and eyes hard. Even Sebastian came in, turning to face the Commander.

     “Is there a problem, Commander?” the prince asked, back ramrod straight and bristling with indignation.

     Meredith turned to Sebastian in surprise. Apparently she was unaccostumed to the man not agreeing with her. “Of course not, your Majesty,” she replied, the sneer in her voice not completely disappearing. “I just wished to offer Serrah Hawke my congratulations. I was once acquainted with her father.”

      _Shit! She remembers Dad? Why?_

     “Well, I believe your well wishes had been conveyed, Commander.” He took a step forward and lightly rested his fingers against her elbow, deftly turning her away and towards the door. “I'm sure a woman of your station has much that needs to be done and this show is begining to wrap up. But thank you for coming.”

     Nickie watched in surprise, jaw nearly as close to the floor as everyone else's in the room. Even Cullen was wide eyed and snickering, following in his superior's wake. And as the door closed behind the Commander of Kirkwall's Special Forces the noise level int he gallery went from a hushed whisper to a dull roar. Suddenly every patron in the place was talking, gossiping about the cold woman that had just been manipulated out the door by the prince of Starkhaven.

     In a blink, Nickie was surrounded by worried faces. A brief hug from Aveline before she marched out the door to be sure the Commander was actually leaving then arms wrapped around her neck and relieved sighs all around. The mass ended with Fenris' arm around her shoulders, Anders' around her waist and an angry Carver pacing- for want of a better word- in front of her.

     “What did that harridan want with you?” he demanded in his petulant way.

     Nickie sighed, leaning against Fenris while looping her arm around the waist of the mage next to her. “Basically to let me know that she knows about me.”

     “Do you think she...knows?” he asked, stopping to look at her with a worried glance.

     “About...you know?” she wiggled her fingers in a pantomime of using magic. “If she did don't you think she'd have had me arrested? No magic outside the sphere of Chantry control. You know how it is.”

     Carver's shoulders sagged and he leaned down to rest on his girlfriend, Merrill's thin shoulder. Everytime Nickie saw them together she was surprised at how well two such disparate people could work together, but they did. The diminutive elf threaded her finger's through the man's hair and whispered in his ear, something that had him chuckling.

     Anders used her distraction to pull Nickie's attention to himself. “You all right?”

     “Yeah, though to tell the truth I was certain that she would do something and you'd do something and next thing you know you're getting arrested and I'd have to break you out of prison. We'd end up fugitives on the run somewhere out in Antiva or something.”

     Anders laughed in surprise. “I can see that happening. Maybe join the Crows and become international assassins.”

     Fenris grimaced at this. “Nickie would make a terrible assassin. Much too soft hearted. She would try to feed the target then tuck them into bed with a story and cup of water.”

     The group chuckled at this and began breaking up, crisis averted. Within another thrity minutes the gallery had emptied of all but the owner and Varric, Nickie, Fenris and Anders- Carver only returning to his place at the rehab center with a promise to visit as soon as Nickie was settled in the new place. Bianca happily let them know that all but one of Nickie's and three of Fenris' pieces had sold with enquiries for commission pieces for both. Then the trio were exiting out into the Hightown night, Varric staying behind to crunch the numbers with Ms. Davri.

     Anders looked down into Nickie's happy face and his heart lurched just a little. _All right, asshole. Time to be the better man._ “I guess I'll meet you at home, Sweetheart,” he said softly, leaning down to kiss her hair lightly.

     He turned to walk towards where he had parked his car but Nickie reached out to grab his hand, pulling back his attention. He looked down at her, confused. She was smiling, pulling until he was close enough for her to stand up on her tiptoes to kiss him lightly on the lips. His eyes closed in a long blink, enjoying the heat of her kiss. Fenris' brows were drawn down in a frown. “Thank you, Anders. I'll see you later.”

     He nodded and moved away, a little more swiftly than was really necessary but he didn't want the elf seeing the results of that brief kiss that was tenting his pants. He really needed more binding underwear.

     Nickie turned her attention to Fenris, suddenly blushing and a touch shy. He was still watching her, face impassive but fingers twitching, a sign that he was feeling anxious. It made her heart leap, knowing that he was as nervous as she was. She reached out her hand and after a momentary pause he took it and led the way to his car.

     The ride was quiet, awkward, both unsure of how to proceed. Nickie stared down at her fingers twisitng around each other, Fenris drumming his against the steering wheel. He would peer over at her periodically, trying to figure out what she was thinking but she was a closed book to him. It was very frustrating.

     The house was very quiet when they pulled into the drive, even Anders' lights dark in the loft, though his car was parked alongside them. Fenris turned off the engine but when he tried to reach for the door handle he froze. Nickie hadn't moved, still staring down at her hands in her lap and he was afraid to disturb her. To maybe break things worse than they were. They sat together in silence, listening to nothing but each other's breathing.

     Finally, with a sigh, Nickie reached across and twined her pinky with Fenris' where it rested on the steering wheel. “Why did you leave?” she asked quietly.

     Fenris looked at their fingers, his heart beating wildly. Just the fact that she was willing to talk, to touch him at all had him ecstatic. But she wanted to know why and he had no idea how to explain. How do you tell someone that all thought left your mind? That the _fight or flight_ mindset for him meant that he chased and fought and killed like a damned animal? “Nickie...I-”

     She raised her other hand in a stop gesture. “No. Just tell me why you didn't come home. I...I've missed you.” By the end she was whispering.

     This, at least, he could answer. “I was ashamed,” he said softly. “I couldn't face you. See the...rejection in your eyes.”

     Nickie looked over at him. His head was bowed, the thick fringe of his white hair covering his eyes and before she realized what she was doing, she pulled her pinky away from his and brushed the hair away, fingers sliding down to cup his cheek. His eyes darted up to meet hers and she smiled, feeling better for seeing them. “No rejection,” she assured him. “Some confusion but never rejection.”

     They stared in each other's eyes, lush and verdant forest meeting storm wracked coast, for what seemed like forever, before one or the other- neither was sure who- leaned in, lips brushing in a soft kiss.

     Nickie had never subscribed to the idea of sudden, electric passion, and yet she couldn't deny that there was something, a frision that quickly developed between them. She deepened the kiss, licking at his bottom lip until they parted and her tongue could dart inside, fingers spreading wide to entwine in his thick hair. After a moment of surprise, Fenris returned her kiss, hands sliding up to Nickie's hips, pulling her as close as he could in the confines of the car.

     He couldn't remember ever feeling anything like this before. It was as though, before meeting this tiny bundle of dynamite he had merely been existing. Now, with her lips pressed to his, her body held in his hands, he was finally, truly, alive. Even with his eye lids closed, the darkness was disappearing from his life, replaced by pale blue light. Nickie gasped against his mouth and a light buzzing feel tingled against his skin.

     “Fenris,” she breathed, air ghosting across his skin and he opened his eyes. The light was real.

      _Wait, what?_ He pulled back, seeing Nickie's confusion as she looked at him. It was then he realized that the light was actually coming from him, from his skin. _Nononono!_ This wasn't right! This only happened when he was angry, when his life was endangered and the rage took over. But he wasn't angry now. There was no rage. There was only Nickie, and her lips and her skin and _Oh Maker!_

     She cupped her hands around his face, forcing him to look her in the eye. Speaking softly as you would with a scared animal, she reassured him. “It's all right, Fenris. It's just us and you would never hurt me, okay?”

     He didn't really believe it but he nodded anyway. Anything to please this wonderous woman. Why she hadn't run screaming he would never understand.

     She grinned at him, happy that he had answered her, even if it was just a nod. “Come on. Let's go in the house and take up where we left off.”

      _Oh...Oh, Maker, yes!_


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW!!!! About damned time too! But, of course, being Fenris, there will be angst. He's just too damned broody for his own good sometimes

     It was dark when they entered the house, quiet. Anders had obviously gone straight to bed and Carver's Mabari was spending his nights with Merrill now that Carver was away at rehab. The house was theirs.

     Taking the lead, Nickie pulled Fenris forward, past kitchen and studio, straight into her room. He looked around, stopping when he realized exactly what he was seeing. “You are leaving?” he asked in a hissed whisper.

     “Um...yeah. Sort of,' she replied sheepishly. “I kinda used the insurance money to buy the house my mother grew up in. I'm moving in there with her but Varric says that I can keep my room here in case I need to get away from her and my studio so I'll be here all the time.”

     Fenris' heart clenched at the idea of her not being here every night, not sleeping right above him. “I...I do not want you to leave.”

     Nickie moved in closer to him and reached up to cup his cheeks. “I won't be far and you'll see me all the time. I just...need to try with her, okay? Of course, the way we fight I'll probably be moving right back here within the week.” Her eyes flashed with her grin and Fenris relaxed.

     And then the air changed. It was as though an electric charge were filling the space between them. Leaning down slightly, he kissed her. His lips were suddenly demanding, firm and slow, molding hers. His fingers reached around and slowly, carefully began to slide the zipper down on her dress. He feared for a moment that she would balk and run from him but she only reached up and slid the linen sheath from her shoulders, letting it pool at their feet.

     He took a step back and gasped. Dressed now only in black strapless bra, panties and heels, she was a vision of sensual wonder. “Oh,” he breathes. “You are... beautiful. Flawless.”

     Nickie flushed, suddenly embarassed, folding her arms across her stomach and looking away. “Not flawless, Fenris. Never flawless.”

     He stepped forward again, fingers sliding into her hair and pulling out the pins, letting her hair fall in thick chestnut waves. “Perfection,” he murmured, and with both hands in her hair, he pulled her back to his mouth. His kiss is demanding, tongue and lips coaxing hers. He wondered for a moment how he knows to do this. He remembers nothing of ever having bedded a woman before but his body seems to know where his mind does not.

     Nickie leaned into his embrace, fingers clutching at the waistband of his pants and sliding her tongue along his bottom lip. He moaned at the contact. One hand remained in her hair, the other travelling down her spine to her waist and down to her backside. His hand flexing and squeezing gently.

     Nickie moaned once more into his mouth, Fenris' erection now rubbing against her. She doesn't know if it's hormones or what, but she wants him now, this moment. She reached up and grasped his upper arms, his biceps surprisingly strong, muscular. Tentatively she moved her hands up across his cheeks and into his hair. It's so soft, unruly, like down. She tugged gently and he groaned.

     Before she realizes what's happening she can feel her mattress pressed up against the backs of her knees but instead of pushing her back he suddenly dropped to his knees before her. He takes her hips in his hands and runs his tongue around her navel, then gently nips his way to her hipbone, across her belly to the other.

     Seeing him on his knees, feeling his mouth on her, has her groaning his name. Hands still in his hair she pulls gently as she tries to quiet her too-loud breathing.

     He gazed up through impossibly long lashes, eyes hot with some unnamed feeling. His fingers reach out to dance across the skin of her stomach, leaning forward, running his nose up the apex of her thighs. “You smell so good,” he sighs, closing his eyes with a look of pure pleasure. He reaches up and pushes her to fall on the bed then takes her foot, slowly sliding away her pump, licking down her ankle as he does.

      _Holy fuck!_ She convulses as he runs the tip of his thumb along her instep. The sensation is so intense as to be almost painful. She gasps as he follows his thumb with tongue and teeth. She never would have believed that her feet could be connected...there. She falls back moaning and he chuckles, that deep resonant sound that had her shivering. He removes the other shoe, repeating his actions, causing her to shudder.

     He stands, watching me with a sensuous grin. Nickie thought she had seen every expression he could possibly have but this one, this was new and had her squirming on the bed.

     “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, voice soft. He undoes the buttons of his pants and slowly pulls them down, eyes on hers. He then leans down, pulling her legs apart, hovering over her, making her squirm with need. He then leans down and kisses the inside of her thigh, up over the lacy material of her panties, breath hot against her. He trails kisses up her belly, tongue dipping into her navel, across her torso heading north.

     Nickie's skin is burning. She feels flushed, too hot, too cold, clawing at the blankets beneath her. He sits up briefly to remove his shirt, revealing his beautiful skin beneath. The tattoos are glowing slightly and instead of fear, they invoke a sense of wonder in her. He is so taken by the moment that he doesn't realize how beautiful he really is.

     He lay down beside her trailling his hand from hip to waist, and up to cup a bra covered breast. He gazes at her, expression unreadable and gently cups her. “You fit my hand perfectly,” he murmurs, then dips a finger into the cup of her bra and gently pulls it down, freeing her breast to his gently questing fingers. He repeats the motion with the other breast then rubs his thumb against her nipple, watching it pucker at the touch.

     He blows very gently on one as he caresses the other and Nickie groans. Internally she is begging for him to take her, to lick her, something, anything to end this torment. He rubs, pulls, licks and kisses at her breasts, alighting every nerve ending in her body as he does.

     “Please,” she begs, head back and mouth open, legs stiffening.

     “Let go,” Fenris whispers. His teeth close around a nipple and his thumb and finger pull hard at the other. It's enough, it's too much, and she falls, coming apart at the seams, body convulsing and shattering into a million pieces. He kisses her, deeply, absorbing her cries.

      _Oh my._ It was...extraordianry. He gazes down at her, a satisfied smile on his face. Nickie's sure hers is filled with gratified wonder.

     Suddenly he sits up and tugs away her panties- _holy crap, I came while still dressed!_ \- then removes his own briefs as well, erection springing free. He moves, spreading her legs further apart. Are you...Do you have protection?” he whispers harshly, panting.

     “I'm on the pill,” and that's all he needs. He leans down, hands on either side of her head so he's hovering there above her, jaw clenched and eyes burning. Then slowly, almost painfully, he pushes himself inside her.

     He stills, gazing down, eyes alight in something akin to triumph. “You are so tight,” he groans, panting. “Are you all right?”

     Nickie nods, hands on his forearms and eyes wide. She has never felt so full. He eases back with exquisite slowness, then thrusts inside once again. She cries out and he stills.

     “Again?” he asks, voice raw.

     “Maker, yes!” and he does it again, making her moan. “Please, Fenris. Please, just...”

     And he moves inside her, shifting onto his elbows so he is pressed up against her chest. He's slow at first, easing himself in and out of her, then speeds up until they are in a merciless, relentless rhythm. He shifts slightly and Nickie can feel herself building to cum once again. She starts to stiffen as he thrusts inside her. Her body quivers, bows, thoughts scattering until all she can do is feel.

     “Come for me, Nickie,” Fenris whispers and that is all it takes for her to explode around him. And as he follows her over the edge he calls her name, one last hard thrust and burst of light from his skin before he stills around her.

     They lay together for minutes, hours, breath slowly returning to normal, limbs loose. Fenris has his forehead pressed against hers, eyes closed as he regains some semblance of himself. For a moment. For the briefest of moments...But it was gone now, causing a physical pain deep in his chest. He opened his eyes, meeting Nickie's own and he wanted to break down and cry in this woman's arms.

     She reached up to run her palm along his cheek and he could feel the harsher rasp of her scar along his skin. This was what he wanted, all he wanted for the rest of his life. This woman wrapped up in his arms and never letting go.

     But Dan was still out there, hunting him. The Magister would never let him alone. And so long as Dan was out there, Nickie would never be safe from him.

     He pulled away, sitting up and reaching for his pants. He had to go. He had to get away from her, keep Nickie safe. She sat up with him and reached out to rub softly at his back. She felt him stiffen and pulled away.

     “Fenris? Are you all right?”

     Her voice was so soft, so tremulous that he had to fight the urge to turn back to her. _No! You are doing this for her._

     “I need to leave,” he muttered, pulling his shirt over his head before scooping up his socks and shoes and heading for the door.

     “That bad, huh?” Nickie tried to joke, though he could hear the sadness in her voice. “No. It was fine,” he said with a sigh. “No. That is insufficient. It was the most amazing thing to ever happen to me but...I just...I can't. I have to go.”

     Nickie perched herself on the edge of the bed, blanket wrapped around her. “Fenris. I thought...I really care about you Fenris and I thought...I thought you did, too.”

     He turned away, pausing briefly at her door before moving. “I care about you as well, Nickie. That's why I'm doing this.” And then he was gone, out of her room, out of the house, into his car and driving away.

     She sat there in shock, not sure for how long. _He just...left? Why? What did I do?_ She didn't realize she was crying until the sun began to turn the room pink around her, huddled under her blankets sitting on the side of the bed.

                                               ****************

 

     “Master taught him well,” the woman hissed with a grin, running her fingers through the man's hair. Hadriana chuckled darkly to herself, listening to the girl cry to herself in the room below. She was sitting on the bed in the loft, the unconcious and trussed up body of the loft's tenant lying beside her. Two of her henchmen were standing in corners of the room, guarding for intruders to their mistress' fun.

     “The Little Wolf just came in, took what he wanted and left, leaving behind a broken heart. What a wonderful thing to see. Thinks himself so much above us but in the end he's no better. He's as dark as the rest of us.”

     The man groaned and began to twitch, trying to wake himself from her spell. Not that it would work. Blood magic was a potent thing, more powerful than any mundane magics. She reached out and ran her hand along the man's flank feeling a subtle tingle between her legs. _Hmmmm. He's a handsome thing. But I think I prefer a bit more struggle when I take a man._

     She sighed and sat back, idling running her fingers over the skin of the man's stomach. She would wait until after they had taken the girl and used her to reclaim the Master's lost property. Then, maybe, she would claim the man for her own to use as she pleased.


	26. Chapter 26

     Nickie knew, the instant she heard the steps on the staircase, that it wasn't Anders descending from his loft. _Had he had company? When would he have had the time? He came here straight from the show and by himself. Was someone here waiting when he arrived?_

     There was a momentary pang of jealousy but it was buried beneath a wave of distrust. No, Nickie's instincts were telling her this was something else. Then there was a heavier set of steps following the first, but the stride was wrong, not Anders' long legs at all. _Shitshitshit!_

     Nickie scrambled for her robe from the back of the door as a third set of booted feet began to descend, the first moving lightly down the hall towards her door. Wouldn't do to meet any potential thugs while naked now, would it? She then made her way back to her bed, sitting at the end cross-legged and hiding her now glowing hands in her lap. These could be just some of Anders' buddies over for a drink but Nickie was going to be prepared. _Does Anders even have 'buddies'?_

     The knob turned and her door slowly swung inward, a woman entering on slippered feet. She was older than Nickie, late twenties or early thirties, with a shorter dark bob and crystal blue eyes. The bob, unfortunately, drew attention to her long rectangular face and her skin had a sallow cast, as though she'd been missing the sun. It was not a good look ofr her, no matter how smartly she dressed in her designer pantsuit and silk blouse that matched her eyes.

     “Ah, Serrah Hawke,” she said haughtily. “I had hoped to catch you as you slept but, alas, it is not to be.” She pushed the door open wider and two large, burly men entered past her and took up positions to either side of the door. Nickie just watched, hands tingling with power clenched tightly in her lap.

     The woman began to stalk the room, looking into boxes and open drawers, sneering into her closet with obvious distaste. “My name is Hadriana. I'm sure my dear Fenris has spoken of me.”

     Nickie watched the woman move back towards the door with distaste. Really? An ex? Isn't that just perfect. “Nope, sorry. We never got around to talking about our past conquests. He's more of a 'love 'em and leave 'em' kind of guy.” _Dammit_.

     “Conquest?” Hadriana laughed with derision. “Oh no. If anyone is a conquest it is the Litlle Wolf.” _Little Wolf? What in the-?_ “Our Master is most anxious to receive him back into the fold.”

     Nickie didn't think about it after that, just lashed out, a wall of ice springing up to separate her from the trio. _She's with those slavers that attacked the Hanged Man! No! She can't have him!_ Shots were being fired on the other side of the wall and Nickie knew it wouldn't hold them for long. She turned, opened her window as wide as it would go, then slipped past her open closet door going as far back as she could.

     The wall burst with a loud curse, a lightning bolt arcing across the room. _Fuck! She's another mage?_ The men raced towards the window, Hadriana sauntering more slowly behind them. “Go. Track the little bitch. Meet me here in ten, text me if you catch her before that.”

      _Fuck! The bitch didn't go with!_ Nickie listened as two sets of heavy boots ran from the room andthe springs on her bed sang as a body sat down. She let a minute pass, then two, marshalling her mana for an attack when she felt almost a cold wind caress her cheek. But it wasn't wind. No, this was power, something she hadn't felt in a very long time.

     “You can come out now. I can feel you here. You're heartbeat is like a song.”

     The woman sounded almost drunk, her voice sing song, warbling. It was not pretty. Nickie steeled herself then took a step from the closet. Hadriana was sitting primly at the edge of Nickie's bed, looking for all the world like a competent, worldly woman, save for the blood slowly dripping from her wrist to the floor, a small knife held loosely in the other hand.

     “Why do you attempt to escape the inevitable?” Hadriana asked, eyes glittering. “It will be gentle, like slipping into a warm bath. Your friend upstairs barely struggled at all.”

     Nickie's heart froze. “What have you done?” she whispered. “Where's Anders?”

     “He dreams the dreams of sex and blood and tears. He screams and cries and no one can hear him. And he will continue to do so until the Little Wolf has come to heel.”

    _Fuck That!_ Nickie lashed out, fire to one hand, ice to the other, pouring everything she had into the sanctimonious face of the bitch on her bed. She didn't care that she was basically setting her new mattress ablaze. Didn't care that the power signature would bring the Special Forces down on her head. This creature had hurt Anders, was trying to hurt Fenris. And no matter how she felt about either of them, no one got to do that.

     And for all the power that Nickie threw at Hadriana, it was nothing in the face of the wall of blood red mist that suddenly ebbed and swirled around her. _Oh Maker! She's a fucking Blood Mage!_

                                              ***************

 

Fenris was half-way to his studio when a feeling of cold dread swept over him, replacing the clenching stomach cramps that had engulfed him the minute he had pulled away from the house. Before he realized what he was doing he had swung the car around and was racing back, certain that he was already too late. He didn't know for what but it was necessary- vital- that he return. Now. Right now, this second, nownownow-

     He had barely put the car in park in front of the house when his markings flashed and power burned through his veins. Magic, a lot of it, was being used in the house and he recognized Hadriana's signature right away. _Fuck! No! No, not her! Not here, with Nickie!_

     Fenris was out of the car and half way across the yard when a thug came running, gun drawn. In the back of his mind Fenris heard the gunshot go off but it was a passing thought. He was lost in the light now, thoughts only on getting to Nickie. An angry face was suddenly there, in his way, but a quick thrust of his hand and a wet tug, and the face was gone. Another noise, a slight burn to the back of his shoulder and he was swinging around, lunging, reaching, pulling. Threat averted, turn and find Nickie.

    _Nickie. I will find you. She will not have you._

     Had a stranger seen all of this, he would have thought that a glowing spirit had exited the car by passing through the door without bothering to open it. He would have seen that spirit reach into the chests of two grown men after they had each put a bullet into him, ripping away their still beating hearts. That spirit then turned back to the house and passed through it's closed front door.

     But it wasn't a stranger. Thankfully it was Varric and he was on his cell to Aveline with Bianca drawn at his side.

                                                 ************

 

_“First rule of dealing with a Blood Mage, darling girl. Don't. You even think there's a possibility that the person you're facing is a Blood Mage you run. Run fast, run hard. Blood Magic is the worst kind of evil because it never starts evil. You use it with the best intentions, you use only your own blood. But it's insidious. Eventually your own blood is no longer enough to reach that same high. So you take the life of a small animal. Then a larger one. Then you're taking the blood of someone else. Before you know it you need the blood, like a drug, and you'll do whatever you have to to get it.”_

     Nickie's father had taught her that and she had lived by it, never using blood in any of her magics. It was a hard rule with her, imperitive. But- _Oh Maker!_ \- Hadriana was so much more powerful than her. She would get a shot off of fire or ice and it would be deflected by a thick swirling mist as though it had never been fired, only to then be enveloped by that mist to burn and writhe in pain.

     And it hurt. It hurt _so_ much! She couldn't concentrate, feeling her mana sputter. Bands of hot mist enveloped her, then like fingers, dipped and rubbed inside her robe. _No! No! Fight it!_ She knew she was screaming, thrashing within the bounds of the blood but a wave of dark depression settled on her like a smothering blanket, causing her movements to slow. _What's the point of fighting? No one wants you around. Your mother hates you, your brother doesn't want you in his life. Fenris...left. Give in. Don't fight it. Doesn't it feel good? Warm and soothing, like love should feel...._

     “ **NO!** ”

     The scream was primal. Visceral. It cut through the fog in Nickie's head and she turned to face the glowing light that had burst into the room. And angel, an avenging spirit stood now between her and Hadriana, facing the witch. It's pulsating power cut the ties that bound Nickie to the woman and she fell to her knees, panting. Her eyes cleared and she realized that it was Fenris. Her Fenris, filled with an unnamed power, poised to destroy the creature before him. She tried to reach out to him but with only one arm ot support herself, Nickie fell forward to the carpet.

     “You will never hold sway over me again,” the elf hissed, pulling back his arm, fingers spread into a great claw.

     “Stop!” Hadriana cried out, arms raised to ward him off. “I have information!”

     “Daniel's whereabouts? Let him come to me. I care not for your Master.”

     “You have a sister!”

      It was as though all the air had left the room. No one could move, could breathe. Fenris' arm slowly lowered as shock set in. “I- You lie. I have no sister.”

     “Let me live and I shall tell you of her,” the woman whined, weedling her way towards freedom once again. _Don't fall for it, Fenris. Please!_

     “I will let you live. Tell me.” Nickie's shoulders slumped at Fenris' angry hiss. Letting Hadriana live was a mistake, she knew. The woman would crawl back to her Master and tell him all bout how to find Fenris. And Nickie was not about to let that happen.

     “She is a servant in Qarinus, far from Minrathous.”

     Fenris tilted his head, trying to glean the truth in the woman's words. “A servant, not a slave.”

     “No. Now release me!” she demanded, regaining her lost compsure even there, sprawled on the carpet.

     “Of course. The ultimate release”

     It was a quiet sound, a soft pulse of light, as his fingers slid between her ribs and clutched at the frantically beating organ held within. He watched as the life slowly ebbed from her eyes, feeling nothing but cold pragmatism. “I said I'd let you live. I never said how long.”


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my computer got a major case of the 'fuck yous' and refused to work there for a while. I mean, this thing has been written for over a week and just...sitting there. Glaring at me. But here we go, computer's happy again and so am I.
> 
> Everything about this chapter was stream of consciousness writing. I did not plan on any of it. It just sort of happened.

     The night was quiet, save for the panting of their breath and the oblivious cricket out in the yard. Hadriana and her men were dead, lying in pools of their own blood and melting ice on Nickie's carpet. Fenris stood over the woman's corpse, markings still glowing softly as the adrenaline slowly leached from his body. He stared into her sightless eyes, unable to comprehend that she was no longer a source of torment in his life. That his Master's apprentice was dead at his feet.

     Suddenly, Nickie sprang away towards her door and out into the hall, eyes wide with fear. The elf was sure for a moment that she was running from him until she called out “Anders!” The man was here? Then had Hadriana-? He refused to finish the thought as he raced after Nickie, up the stairs to the doctor's loft.

     Fenris had never been up the stairs into the man's sanctum, though he had to admit, now, that it was rather nice. The space had a steep gabled roof, separated into a living room and bedroom by a bookshelf wall filled to the brim and beautiful french doors. Nickie had run into the bedroom area once a brief search of the living space had shown nothing. Fenris followed, prepared for anything.

     What they found was Anders, bound at the wrists and ankles on his bed, unconcious but twitching. Nickie had clambered up onto the bed and now cradled his head in her arms, patting at his cheek to try and rouse him. It was useless, of course. Fenris had seen this before and there was no way that she would be able to wake him. Hadriana had used blood magic, bound him into the Fade with her own essence to keep him there.

     And only blood magic could pull him back.

     “Anders, come on,” she sobbed, patting at his cheek. “Fenris killed her. You can wake up now!”

     “Nickie-”

     “NO!” she screamed, eyes flashing towards the elf. “No, I can wake him up. I can, I know I can.”

     Fenris sighed and moved to begin untying the doctor, rubbing at ankles and wrists to return circulation. He would give her time to calm down, to think things through a little more rationally. No one came out a blood magic coma on their own.

     Nickie rocked her friend in her arms and cried. She knew what had been done. Knew that the only cure was more of the same. Her father had taught her all about the perils of blood magic and how not to fall into it's trap. But now, to save her friend's sanity, not to mention his life, she was going to have to use the one magic she found the most repugnant.

     Noises began downstairs, voices calling, and Fenris went to meet them. As soon as he was out of sight, Nickie left the bed to search the nearby endtable. As a doctor, Anders had small medkits stashed all over his loft and in the car. And in each kit, among the salves and antibiotics and bandages, was a small scalpel. This kit was no exception.

     “I'm sorry Anders,” she said in a whisper, moving back to the bed. “I know how you feel about this crap and you know I agree with you. But...damn it! I can't leave you like this!”

     Carefully, oh so carefully, Nickie slipped the edge of the scalpel along her skin, parting the flesh until a thin line of blood flowed down to her wrist. She moved to let it drip onto Anders' skin, on his cheek and lips and forehead. She gathered her magic to herself, the raw power of her mana a tidal wave held back by a mental wall. “Please don't hate me, Anders.”

     It was as though all her previous uses of magic had been as a child slapping at a puddle, while this...this was a typhoon swirling around her. Red droplets of blood became a glowing mist of power, moving around her as though it were dancing, reflecting light and singing in her veins. Eyes closed, arms raised as though in suplication, Nickie tried to concentrate on finding Anders in the Fade, but it was hard. So damned hard not to listen to the soft crooning voice of a multitude of Demons, vieing for her attention. Rage called to her anger, Sloth asking her to just let go. Pride in all she'd done. Desire for the men in her life, pictures of a writhing Fenris, a panting Anders.

     They crooned in her mind, a littany of promises that they had no intention of keeping. But she worked her way through them, concentrating only on the feeling of Anders' spirit, his soul trapped beyond the Veil.

     It seemed forever and only a moment before she found his essence floating like a light in the darkness. He glowed a vibrant blue mottled with green, the signature of his personal magic and she mentally pulled him close and cradled him to her as she returned to real world. Like a ghost outside her own body she watched herself gather the man's spirit within her palms and push the light into his chest. The light suffused his body, radiating out to his limbs, his head, glowing brightly. Then, suddenly, he was gasping, sitting up and looking about wildly and Nickie was back in her own body, slumping down with a deep, over riding fatigue.

     Fenris, followed by Aveline, Varric and another uniformed officer, arrived in time to see Anders take Nickie into his arms and hold her tightly, tears streaming down his cheeks. Her eyes were closed and she wasn't moving, though tears of her own streaked her cheeks.

     “Nickie? Please tell me you're okay, Sweetheart,” the man whispered into her hair. “Please!”

     The elf took a step forward, just close enough to see the imperceptable nod she gave him. He exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. She was all right, thank the Maker! He looked up and met Anders' eyes and he knew that, he too, was all right. Which shouldn't have been possible unless...

    _Fuck!_

                                            *************

 

     It was some hours later by the time that the police woman and her men returned to their precinct and the three of them were left alone. Varric had gone home after an hour or so, after making sure that his tenants weren't in need of anything and documenting any damage done to Nickie's room. Now the three were sitting side by side on the couch in the living room, some mindless sitcom on the television that no one was watching.

     The men each held one of Nickie's hands while her head rested on Fenris' shoulder. Occasionally someone would brush a thumb over the others' knuckles or one of the boys would reach out with their other hand to gently stroke Nickie's hair or knee. It was soft and comforting, And though Nickie was loathe for it to end, she was dead on her feet and needed to rest.

     When she started to yawn for the third time, Anders grinned. “All right, Missy. Time for you to catch some shut eye.” He stood and stretched, popping his spine in at least three places, causing the others to wince.

     Fenris Stood as well, pulling Nickie along with him. “You can not sleep in your room tonight,” he told her. “You will sleep in my bed. I will sleep on the floor.”

     Anders watched as Nickie looked aghast at the elf. “You can't sleep on the floor! It's your bed, I'll sleep on the floor.”

     They bickered back and forth for almost a minute bfore the doctor placed his fingers between his lips and blew a sharp, piercing whistle. “Shut it!” he said with a laugh. “Sleep in the same damned bed! It's not like the two of you haven't done other things in a bed.”

     The deep blush that crept up their cheeks and all the way to their ears told the truth of that. “Hush, Mage,” Fenris mumbled, tugging gently at Nickie's hand. “Or you will not be invited to sleep with us.”

     That stopped him dead in his tracks, arms still upraised in a stretch. “Wait, what?”

     Nickie giggled. “Well, it's not like you can go upstairs and get any sleep. Fenris is right, if he's willing to share his bed you should join us. I think tonight we'll all need the companionship.”

     Anders followed them dumbly, definitely _not_ thinking of companionship. He watched their asses as they walked, his in a tight pair of black jeans, hers clad in a pair of Carver's old boxers, the thin cotton clinging beautifully. Fenris lead the way to his basement sanctum, Nickie and Anders in his wake. He looked around the underground room with undisguised curiosity, trying to find some sort of insight into the elf.

     It was a large space, unbroken by walls, only a Tevinter-style screen between where the elf slept and living room area. The walls were still their original white, the only decor being a few of the artist's finished sculptures sitting on old plant stands and pedestals, and two pieces that obviously had been given to him by Nickie on the walls. The sofa, one that had originally been upstairs until Nickie had found their current one in a yard sale, was a faded navy corderoy, threadbare in places. It faced an old television that was so covered in dust that it was obvious the elf seldom watched. A battered old trunk served as a coffee table, the top littered with spools of wire and various tools.

     On the other side of the pearlescent white and grey screen lay a simple double bed covered in a multitude of blankets and quilts, each a riot of colourful patches. It was so different from the living area that it took him aback for a moment. He had to wonder if this was Nickie's influence or if the elf had always slept differently than he lived.

     Nickie pulled down the quilts to reveal plain white sheets beneath and crawled into the center of the bed. Thank the Maker, he wouldn't have to snuggle the elf! He looked to Fenris who was watching him, then shrugged and joined her on the mattress. It would be a tight fit but the others were small and he was skinny enough that it was doable. He lay on his back and Nickie snuggled into his side. He relaxed with a happy sigh.

     Fenris watched them ease into each other and wasn't certain how to feel. He knew he should be jealous, and that was there don't get him wrong. But there was something else, a...contentment that the two of them were safe and in his bed. He turned and stripped quickly while neither was watching, snagging a pair of sleep pants from a nearby dresser, then slipping into the bed next to Nickie. She was already asleep, her breathing deep and even, and he was comfitted. He had feared that she would no longer feel safe with him after Hadriana and her men.

     The elf shuddered at the memory of what he had done. He was glad it was over, that the bitch would no longer be able to torment him or disclose his location to Dan, but he had never wanted to do something so damned savage in front of this woman. He only wanted her to see him at his best.

     When he shuddered again, a hand snuck out from under Nickie's head to stroke his hair. He froze for a moment, then almost involuntarily leaned into the touch. They lay like this for a time, being soothed by the touch of another person before Fenris finally spoke.  

     “You realize what she's done, yes? To bring you back?”

     Anders' fingers froze. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, I do.”

     They sat in silence again for a time. “Would you...help me watch her? I do not know that I can do it alone and should she need help, I do not know that I can do it.”

     “Of course, Fenris,” the mage answered, returning to stroking the elf's soft hair. “I owe her everything. I couldn't abandon her now.”

     Fenris nodded in the dark and slowly fell asleep to the feel of the man's fingers gently caressing him.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a horribly slow writer, I admit it. Especially now when I'm working again and my hubby has insomnia, using the computer when I would normally be writing.

     It was raining. Hard. Nickie could feel it in the ache deep in the scar tissue of her hand. The hand that was now trapped under something that was heavy and warm. She tried to use her other hand to push the offending thing away but it, too, was trapped under something almost as heavy and slightly warmer. _Maker be damned! If Carver's dog is in my room..._

     It was then she remembered that she wasn't in her room. Her room was trashed, covered in blood and melted ice and, most likely, taped off outlines from corpses. Nickie's eyes snapped open to find that she was being cuddled to death. She was lying flat on her back. Pressed to her right was Fenris, his head pressed to her shoulder, arm about her waist and leg pressed to her thigh. On her left was Anders snoring softly into her hair. His arm was higher up, draped across her chest just above her breasts so that his hand lay on her shoulder. And, of course, his long legs were splayed not only across her legs, but Fenris' as well.

     If it wasn't for the rain making her hand ache abominably she would have happily stayed there between the men.

     For the briefest of moments she considered running her fingers somewhere private on Fenris as she slowly pulled her limb out from under him, but thought better of it. Yes they had made love...once...but it had lead to tension and hurt. She wasn't sure touching would be accepted. Not to mention they weren't exactly alone.

     She then smiled softly when she turned to free her other arm from beneath Anders. His face was so innocent as he slept, eyelids fluttering in dream, golden hair a loose halo around his head. He was her best friend in the world, second only to Fenris, with Varric pulling a fast third, and she worried about how hagard he always looked. He worked horrible shifts at the hospital and didn't take nearly enough care of himself. Unless she made him, of course.

     She thought about laying a kiss to his brow but that would probably cause as many problems as touching Fenris. With a wistful sigh she carefully climbed to the foot of the bed and made her way upstairs to her studio where she kept a tube of cream for her scar.

     Once again the house was a disaster, a mess of dirty boot prints all over the hallway tile and fingerprint dust marring doorframes, lightswitch plates, and every flat surface she could see. The police had made coffee at some point and left the machine on, burning the drink to a sticky goo on the bottom of the pot. And- dammit!- someone had left a half-eaten sandwich on the table. _What kind of cop makes a sandwich from the victim's fridge?_ She thought to herself in annoyance. But it would have to wait a bit.

     Thankfully her studio remained untouched since nothing had happened there and she found her cream on one of the work tables next to an open sketchbook. Carefully massaging cream into her palm, Nickie glanced down at what she had been working on last, a series of character studies. On the open page were two faces looking up at her, both male, one elf the other human, and she realized that they were base mock ups of Fenris and Anders.

     Oh, there were differences. She hadn't purposefully been drawing portraits of the two men. She'd been thinking of painting something other than landscapes and decided to try out some fantasy-style portraits. And apparently her subconscious really wanted to draw her favourite men.

     Sitting with the sketchbook in her lap, Nickie took up a piece of charcoal to smooth out a line or two that were bothering her. Soon she was lost in her art.

                                        ****************

 

     Anders' eyes drifted open slowly. The room was darker than he was accustomed to for the morning hours and his body was determined to believe it was earlier than it was because of the dark. What ended up waking him fully was the chill against his chest where a presence was no longer lying.

     He reached out with his fingers but felt only a warm space that was cooling even as he touched it. Nickie was gone and he felt suddenly alone, even though he heard another breathing softly near him. Fenris. The elf was still asleep, curled only a few inches further away. He could slide his fingers towards him, touch his skin if he wished. Did he wish? He was beautiful lying there, olive skin gleaming against the white sheets, features softened by sleep making him appear almost innocent. Or at least not so angry. Anders felt a lump form in his throat with the idea of touching the elf's satiny skin, but he knew deep down it would end up being a bad idea and so pulled his hand back to his chest before turning and sitting up, draping his legs over the edge of the bed.

     Elbows resting on his knees, he cupped his face in his hands and let out a ragged sigh. One thing about Anders was that he never woke well, which could be a major hassle working in a hospital emergency room. After two or three cups of coffee he might be presentable, but just getting out of bed? Forget it. Maybe he should take Chantry Boy up on his offer, go work in a clinic for a while. He could care less if the pay was shit minimal- or even non-existant for a while- but the thought of maybe working a regular eight to ten hour shift instead of twenty-four actually made him a little giddy.

     Not to mention working with the poor people that couldn't afford to go to a regular hospital. The refugees and the elves from the Alienage and surface dwarves that didn't have the kinds of connections that Varric did. Even those newcomers out on the Docks, the Qunari, though he'd never seen one sick or injured. Just a bunch of giant, strong, healthy males.

     With a grunt Anders stood and stretched, popping several vertebrae in his spine as he did, revelling in the pain/pleasure as they went, then slowly made his way up the basement stairs and into the kitchen.

    _What in the name of the Maker-?_

     The mess was... it was too much. Dark smudges and clumps of dirt everywhere, the reek of burnt coffee from his poor coffee maker, half-eaten food on the table and dishes in the sink. Anders could feel his heart begin to race in rage, his hands curl into fists and power build around his fingers. A voice in the back of his head told him he was over-reacting but he didn't care. After all the crap, all the bullshit, all the terrorizing fear, he REALLY needed a cup of coffee right about now.

     “Well, what a load of shit,” a voice said behind him.

     Anders turned, ready to loose a bolt of ice in the speaker's face, catching it at the last moment before he froze Varric to the floor, his grinning face dripping with rain, faltering slightly before he held up a giant lidded cup. “Extra extra large cup of joe, straight from my personal stash out of Antiva.”

     “Varric, you are a paragon of timing and wonder,” Anders said with a relieved sigh, shaking out his hands and the last vestiges of ice crystals before taking the steaming cup from his friend.

     “Yeah,” Varric chuckled. “I get that a lot.”

                                               *************

 

     Fenris came awake with a blink, from rest to full wakefulness as was his wont. Being on the run meant never sleeping too deeply. He had roused briefly when Nickie had climbed from the bed and again when the mage followed, and he briefly considered sitting up as well but decided that it was just too damned early.

     So when he realized that a fair amount of loud noises were emminating from the kitchen he had to wonder just how long they had been going on and how they hadn't woken him earlier. Did he feel that comfortable here in this house, with these people, that he could sleep without being disturbed by them? He wasn't sure if that bothered or pleased him and decided to just ignore it instead. He really didn't need deep philosophical thoughts today.

     He rolled and stood from the bed in a fluid movement then began stretching and arching his spine. His spine cracked with a satisfying sound that had Fenris almost smiling. Limbs loose, he began the first steps of his excercise program, a series of lunges, spins and blocks that he had learned during his time on Seheron. He'd been told it was a sword kata, a series of swordfighting moves that were used hundreds of years before, during the war between the Qunari and Tevinter. No one was certain anymore which side had actually originated the kata but Fenris no longer cared. It was beautiful either way and served to prepare him for the day.

     Forty-five minutes later and the noises were continuing in the kitchen, a loud thump on the floor serving to break Fenris' concentration. With a deep sigh he decided to dress and investigate. At the top of the stairs in the hall Varric was on his knees, frilled pink apron about his waist covering his designer suit, matching kerchief on his head, scrubbing the tile floor with a stiff bristle brush from a plastic bucket beside him. He was humming a tune that the elf was certain came from an animated movie he had seen last year. A glance into the kitchen showed Anders in a matching apron, this one in yellow with small white polka dots, and his sleep pants slung low on his hip, elbow deep in a sink full of foamy bubbles. The most humungous take away cup of coffee Fenris had ever seen sat near to his hand, still steaming.

     Fenris watched the mage for a few moments as he worked. He hadn't really gotten a good look at him the night before as they had all climbed into bed and he took the time to look him over now while he could. The human was tall, within an inch or so of Nickie's brother, but so much leaner. Almost too lean, as though the man didn't eat enough, but with a layer of muscle that spoke of excercise. His sharp hip bones were barely holding up his sleep pants and did absolutely nothing to hide the curve of his ass.

     “Hey, Broody,” Varric said, spying the elf in the doorway, “You wanna go check on Princess? I think she's in her studio.”

     Fenris felt his cheeks, and Maker forbid, his ears, flush a deep crimson when Anders turned and looked at him, most likely realizing that he had been being watched. But the mage just smirked and turned back to his washing, making no comment. Fenris could have dealt with a comment, but this he didn't know how to handle. So instead he nodded to the grinning dwarf and made his way down the hall to Nickie's rooms.

     At first Fenris didn't see Nickie as he entered the studio and for a moment he panicked, until he turned to a large wing chair that had been moved into the room for temporary storage as she packed to move. She was curled in the chair, feet tucked up underneath her, sketchbook in her lap and charcoal in her fingers. As he looked around the room he realized that the floor was littered with sheets of paper, all covered in a miriad of drawings. Bending to lift one, he realized that the figures on the page were himself and the mage.

     He was taken aback. The faces were recognizable, idealized, as the two men, but not dressed as people of their time. They stood back to back, the mage with a staff while he brandished a sword, the two of them fierce and unreleting. Anders' hair was pulled back in a rough half-tail, the loose locks flying about his face, making him appear to be some sort of rough god. Dressed in a layering of pants, tunics and jackets, -one of them feathered for Maker's sake- they added bulk to what would still be a thin frame, adding to his god-like demeanor.

     Fenris, on the other hand, was more like a feral animal. The drawing's sword was longer than he was, though he wielded it as though it were a twig. He was covered in some sort of black armor that prickled with sharp-looking points on the pauldrons and gloves. Strangely enough, his feet were bare, his lyrium markings shining through. The look on his face, though, was an angry, beastial snarl. Was this really how Nickie saw him? The both of them?

     He looked at her but she was so engrossed in her work that she didn't notice as he silently dropped the paper and crept away into her bedroom next door, closing the door softly behind him. His heart was beating quickly, breath coming in pants now, harsh against his ears. Was that really how she saw him? Some kind of...what? Demonic warrior? Animalistic fighter? He didn't even have the words.

     And Anders! He was depicted as some kind of avenging spirit, beautiful and raw. His heart clenched at the memory of the sketch and how that man had shone, even through black charcoal. His breathing was coming faster now, his fingers begining to shake. He needed to get out of there, outside in the air, out to his own studio to work off this feeling in the workshop. But first...

     His eyes darted around the room, barely taking in the blood and drying puddles of melted ice before alighting on Nickie's dresser and one of her many hair ties, this one a thick red ribbon that she used to keep her hair back when working at the Hanged Man. It was perfect, exactly what he needed.

     Snatching it up, he turned and ran from the house into the heavy rain,as quickly as his feet could take him, Varric calling out behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have been meaning to put up my tumblr address just in case you might have an interest. It's pretty much all Dragon Age and writing stuff, including drabbles that I might not post here. http://selenehawke.tumblr.com/


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So no one is doing what I had planned for them way back at the beginning of this thing...*sigh*. Oh well, fluffy angst ahoy!

     “Mother? Where do you want this lamp? _Please say the garbage please say the garbage._

     “In the Library, Nichola,” the woman replied from the kitchen, her voice echoing over the marble tiles of the foyer. _Fuck!_

     Nickie held up the monstrosity to the light. The figure was as long as her forearm, the figure of Andraste gilded to within an inch of its life as she was bound on the pyre. The cream silk shade might have been salvageable but on the whole, the lamp was a damned eyesore. “Really, Mother? But it's so...ugly.”

     She could feel her mother stomping towards her even before she heard the staccato clicking of her heels against the tile. Leave it to her mother to wear three inch heels to unpack boxes. The woman turned the corner from the kitchen, a mass of indignation and disappointment, green silk dress perfect and sleek chigon with nary a hair out of place. Nickie sighed. _Here comes the lecture..._

      “That lamp came straight from Orlais. It is an heirloom piece and it's like can be found in only the best of nobilities parlours,” Leandra said with a huff of disdain. “You would know this if you weren't always running around with your group of riff raff friends. Especially that elf of yours. The _artist_.”

     Nickie bristled at that. She could handle her mother's disappointment in her, the way she dressed or her art or her lack of cooking skills, but she'd be damned if she let the woman get away with looking down on Fenris. Even if the elf was avoiding her lately. Very carefully Nickie placed the lamp back into the box from whence it came, turned on her heel and headed for the door, scooping up her large purse from the foyer table as she went.”That's it. Unpacking time is done for the day.”

     “Nichola Abigail Hawke! Where do you think you're going?” her mother demanded.

     “The riff raff are calling, Mother! See you later!”

                                               ********************

 

     Anders sat in a corner of the Hanged Man nursing a beer. When he had first sat down it had been deathly quiet, the lunch crowds not quite yet ready to eat, but the bar was now well filled with the denizens of Lowtown. Blue collar guys, mostly, coming home from their shifts out at the Bone Pit mine. Tonight it would be college kids and artists like Nickie and Fenris, dancing to a local band or enjoying the night on the rooftop patio.

     Sometimes he wished he could be more like them. Free to express how he felt, to just cut loose and dance. He smirked, remembering the last time he had really danced, and just how silly he had looked back then. His Spicy Shimy would probably not go over well anymore. Another sip of his now flat beer, another grimace about why he was drinking in the first place.

     Anders couldn't sleep. Hadn't been able to since that night a week ago he had bedded down with Fenris and Nickie. They were worse when he tried to sleep in his own bed, but even lying down on the couch in the living room or the mattress in Nickie's old room didn't help. He wasn't about to ask Fenris if he could bed with the elf again, seeing as he was a prickly bear to everyone since Nickie had officially moved out a week ago. At this rate he'd have to move out as well, just to find some place where the nightmares couldn't find him.

     “Well, hello there, Handsome,” a voice purred in his ear.

     Anders quickly turned to the newcomer, an ice spell tingly on his finger tips before he realized it was Isabella sliding into the chair next to him, her hand creeping up his thigh. “Hello, Izzy,” he replied with an indulgent twist of the lips, gently moving her hand from his leg back to her own. “What are you doing here?”

     Isabella gave him a concerned look. “I'm working the bar tonight. I always work the bar on Friday nights, Honey, you know that. Are you feeling all right? You're looking kinda...dead.”

     Anders barked with laughter. “Dead! Yeah, I guess you could say that!” He raked his fingers through already mussed hair. “I definitely feel it most days.”

     Izzy watched his expression for a moment before reaching out, taking him by the shoulders and pulling him down into a hug that basically mashed his face into her voluptuous breasts. Breasts that were currently mostly uncovered by a very deep vee neck tee shirt. He tried to sputter and pull away but she simply held firm.

     "You need to relax, Sweet Thing,” she said, finally pulling back after a full minute and letting Anders come up for air. “I'm going to get Varric to order you up some food while I get you another drink and you're going to eat and drink and dance. And maybe, if you play your cards right, you'll stumble out of here with a beautiful woman on your arm that will happily tumble into your bed and make you feel alive again.”

     Anders was about to say no, that all he really wanted was to go home and try and sleep. The word was there, on the tip of his tongue, when he saw her walking across the room towards them. Tie dyed and loose bohemian top that did nothing to hide her figure and jeans that were more hole than denim. Thick chocolate hair falling in waves around her face framing porcelain skin and storm wracked eyes.

     Nickie was smiling at them, lighting up the room and all he could say was, “Yes.”

                                                   ***********

 

     Fenris lay in the center of his bed, arms bent under his head, and sighed. The house was too quiet. Nickie was gone, had been for a week. Anders had gone out, not that he really heard anything out of the doctor most days anyway, since Hadrianna. Carver was still in rehab and while Merrill had moved into her boyfriend's room while he was gone, she had taken the dog out hours ago, 'exploring' as the little elf put it.

     It was strange. Not long ago Fenris had been living out of his car. The thought of other people had made his skin crawl. Even working with others, helping them over the phone had been too much. He had needed the solitude of his workshop just to stay sane. But now?

     He thought about how it had all changed. A shape in a dark alley, a soft cry of distress. His heart raced even now, thinking back. He had rushed in without thinking, taking out his rage on someone else on the men that were hurting her. For once he could not regret loosing his control that night, because it brought him to her.

     Fenris pictured Nickie in his mind, a bright nimbus of light in his darkness. The wind in his mind's eye was whipping her dark hair about her and her eyes were flashing with mirth. His heart clenched even as his cock began to stir. She was so damned beautiful, so loving, and he had done nothing but bring misery and death to her door.

     Then his mind conjured another figure standing with her. Anders, tall and blonde and wrapping his fingers about her shoulder. As much as Fenris felt jealous of the man and his carefree way with Nickie, he couldn't stop the feeling of his cock getting even harder., straining against his jeans.

     Even as Fenris undid his pants to try and give himself relief, they turned towards each other, clothing melting away until they were nude and in each others' arms, lips tasting of each other. Fuck! Fenris thought to himself as his other hand drifted down from behind his head to cup himself. This was not a reaction he expected. Imagining Nicke nude, sure. Picturing her naked and writhing made him hard all the time. But Anders? And not just a naked Anders, but one that was fondling Nickie?

     And then his mind conjured up something new and completely unexpected. Fenris himself was approaching the pair, naked and reaching to touch skin. Anders' skin.

     “All right, that's it!” Fenris cried, sitting up from the bed and zipping himself up- carefully so as not to catch anything. “I'm going to the Hanged Man. Anything has to be better than this!”

                                               *************

 

     It was now a typical Friday night crowd. The Blue Collar guys had all gone home to their families to be replaced by their twenty-something year old kids. The band was in full swing- an up and coming group called the Red Jennies- and the dance floor was packed. It was so packed that Fenris didn't see them at first as his eyes panned around the room.

     He spotted Varric and Isabela behind the bar and exchanged a wave. Aveline and her husband Donnic were seated nearby and they exchanged nods of greeting. Seated with them was a handsome man with thick auburn hair and intense blue eyes that Fenris couldn't place right away. When his artist's eye replaced the worn jeans and polo shirt with a suit and tie he realized that it was the man from the gallery showing, Sebastian Vael. _How...odd_.

     It wasn't until his second pass over the crowd that he spied them out on the dance floor. Pressed close together by the other dancers, it was almost exactly as he had pictured it. You know, except that they weren't kissing and fully dressed. And there went his cock again. _Dammit_!

     They both turned and sighted him just as he began to step towards them. There was that moment, that flash of _oh fuck_ and then they were both smiling at him and he found himself smiling back. Really smiling, something he never did. And then he was pressed in behind Nickie, one hand on her hip, the other lightly touching Anders, and the three of them were moving to the music as though that was where they belonged.

     And when Anders looked over Nickie's shoulder to meet his eyes, his look a mix of wistfulness and heat, Fenris knew that he was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my Tumblr if you've an interest. Sometimes (rarely but that will probably change soon) I put up shorts and drabbles that don't make it here. https://www.tumblr.com/blog/selenehawke


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long to post but I kind of got caught up in another one of my stories and Nickie wandered off for a beer or something. But we're back and things are finally going to be progressing beyond the fluff stage and back to actual story...though there will be more fluff and smut in later chapters, I promise!

     Meredith Stannard, Commander of the Kirkwall Special Forces, paced back and forth in front of the window wall of her penthouse office, her fingers moving agitatedly between pulling at her hair and straightening her uniform jacket.

_Dammit! Her men were useless! Every single one of them! Dim-witted morons sucking at the government teet. And they STILL haven't found it! How hard is it to find one stupid little thing? I mean really! I should be putting them in chains and parading their broken corpses across the Gallows courtyard! Or better yet, that damned chit, Hawke. Thinks she's so much better just because she's young and prettty and talented! I'll show the bitch, I'll rip her to pieces and drink the blood from her severed neck-!_

     Meredith's mental tirade was so loud that at first she missed the knocking at her door. “Ma'am?” a voice called. “Commander? You asked for me?”

     Startled, Meredith began smoothing back her now dishevelled hair and wiped away the spittle on her chin. _Spittle, for Maker's sake!_ After a minute she called for her visitor to enter.

     Captain Cullen looked around the office with trepidation. With the amount of growling that had been going on, he was sure the Commander had some sort of wild animal inside.

     “What do you need, Captain?”

     Cullen eyed his superior in concern. She looked flushed, manic, so completely at odds with her usual appearance. “Um...you called for me, Ma'am,” he stammered.

     “I did? I-” she sat back at her desk with a soft thud. When had she done that? It couldn't have been that long ago, Cullen was nothing if not prompt, but she had absolutely no recollection. Then an idea came into her head and her vorry lifted. She could use this and get rid of the Hawke bitch at the same time. “Captain, I need you to bring Quenten to my office by oh nine hundred tomorrow morning. No excuses.”

     “Quenten, Commander?As in-?”

     “Yes.”

     “...oh...”

                                           **************

 

     “Please, Anders? I can only live alone with Mother for so long before I kill her and Fenris doesn't want to move just yet, not that I can blame him, I mean he just got his first place after living in his car for who knows how long, and living with Izzy is worse than with Mother and Merrill is living in Carver's room until he gets home and-”

     “Nickie!” Anders laughed, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Deep breath!”

     Nickie inhaled, held for a moment, then continued more softly, “And you don't sleep when you're at your place any more.”

      _She's not wrong,_ Anders thought to himself, leaning forward to kiss the top of Nickie's head. _Six months and I've barely gotten more than three hours at a stretch. And now that I'm working at the clinic instead of the hospital I'm not bringing in nearly the cash I used to. Pretty soon I won't be able to make rent._

     Anders looked at the world around them. He and Nickie were currently sitting on a bench not far from the Amell estate in a little park meant for pampered high society types to walk their dogs without actually having to go out and mingle with the lower society dog owners. Or- Maker forbid!- Ferelden's! But it was well-kept and quiet, with neatly trimmed grass and flowering hedges that lent the air a heady fragrance.

     It was so nice that he actually felt underdressed for this particular park in his old Red Jennies band tee shirt and faded jeans with the holes in the knees. But since leaving the rat race at the hospital he found that more and more of his dressier clothes were being donated to the poorer residents of Darktown that were trying to find work, to wear to interviews. Not to mention a lot of old tee shirts and jeans were seeing the light of day again after way too many years.

     Nickie, on the other hand, was stunning as usual, dressed in a simple A-line sundress with spaghetti straps that on a normal woman would have reached her knees, but for Nickie hit mid-calf. It had begun it's life in white, but she had artfully tie-dyed it in varying shades of emerald and turquoise. Matched with a simple pair of sandals that tied up her leg and a chunky, turquoise beaded necklace, she took his breath away. And judging by the glances she had been receiving all morning from passers-by, he wasn't the only one.

     Now she was trying desperately to convince him to take a room in her new home. Leandra had apparently been making her miserable and she was looking for a buffer if nothing else. Not that he minded, really. The idea of moving in, even if not into her room but one on the first floor near the library, was tittalating. Forget the free rent, the free food cooked for him by someone that actually knew what they were doing- but not Nickie! Never Nickie!- even the possibility of maybe, just maybe, getting some real sleep. Nickie would be there. Close enough to touch, to hear, to smell. Maker how he had missed her!

     He looked down into her pleading eyes and knew that he would agree. How could he not? This was Nickie Hawke, after all. The woman he'd been secretly pining after since the day he had moved into Varric's loft oh so many years ago. But first...

     “So tell me again why you need me to move in there?”

     Nickie stared incredulously. Had he not been listening? “First, my art is just a hobby that I”ll outgrow, even though it's what paid for the roof over her head and the food in her stomach. Then I'm too short, too uncoordinated, too...magey...to land a husband! Then she turns around and tells me that she set up a date for me with 'a wonderful boy. The de Launcet's by, Emile'. Emile! He's a bigger dork than Carver and when he slurps spaghetti it rears back and attacks him! And it ususally wins! She hired a decorator to come in a completely redo the house without consulting me, even though the estate is actually mine, and now it's filled with all this Orlesian and antique Tevinter crap. I finally had to put my foot down when it came to my room, but I didn't catch them until they were already part way through and now there's red everywhere where I'm trying to sleep and-”

     “Nickie, Sweetheart, you're sparking.”

     She took a breath long enough to look down at her fingers and, sure enough, little motes of light were dancing around the tips. She shook them out, looking back at Anders with a pleading look. “Please save me from her!”

     Anders chuckled and Nickie smiled brightly. “All right, Sweetheart. For you-” Nickie threw her arms about his neck, driving the last words- and air- from his lungs.

     “Oh thank you, Anders! Thank you! You won't regret this!”

     Anders sighed with a smile, briefly burying his nose in her hair and breathing deeply. He hoped not. He really did.

                                    *******************

 

     The long, black limosine idled half a block from the park, it's rear passenger watching the pair with interest. Slowly he lowered his small set of binoculars and reached up to scratch at his chin, the hairs of the greying van dyke rough against his fingers even with the expensive conditioning treatments that had become a constant in his life.

      _Nichola Hawke and Doctor Warden Anderson...interesting..._ When Hadriana and the small contingent of men he had sent with her had failed to check in, he had done a bit of digging and learned of their deaths. It turned out his little wolf had come into a circle of fairly powerful new friends, the least of which were these two. And when he noticed that the girl began to spark, he chuckled low in his throat. _And a mage. How gratifying to know that Fenris would return to type. It would make his job so much easier..._

     “Master? Apologies, but your two o'clock appointment at the Viscount's Keep is nearing.” a voice crackled over the internal intercomm. Daniel Arius sighed. It was an unfortunate circumstance that he was forced to make small talk with the city leader during his stay, but necessary to keep his diplomatic immunity intact.

     “Proceed,” he answered sharply, mind already drifting back to the pair in the park. She now had her arms wrapped around his neck, his at her waist, in a crushing embrace. Oh yes. He could definitely use this.


	31. Chapter 31

     The music was blaring in Fenris' studio and was still nearly drowned out by the noise of the blow torch in his hand. The last few feathers were being welded onto the wings of his current commission, a waist high statue of a rearing griffon that would be decorating the front entry of the new Weisshaupt embassy.

     With Anders now gone from the house as well as Nickie and Carver, he was finding that he was spending more and more time here in the studio, the noise a necessity after the blaring silence of the house. Of course, he probably could have gone to Nickie's new place but he didn't want to be a bother. Or at least that's what he told himself.

     It was a lie, of course. His problem wasn't that he was afraid of bothering someone, but that he wasn't. That they might actually want him there. He didn't know how to process how he was feeling, not just for Nickie, but for Anders as well. So instead of trying, he hid in his studio and worked.

     It was some hours later that he realized he was no longer alone. A prickling feeling along the back of his neck that let him know he was being watched. He cut the feed to his torch and carefully set it aside then removed his goggles and stretched, a reflection of his visitor now visible in the sheen of the griffon's chest, a dark shape in the doorway. He made to reach for a small towel to wipe the sweat from his brow, taking up the crow bar that had been sitting next to it instead and spinning to confront the intruder.

     But instead of a thief or attacker, it was Nickie, framed by the sunlight and doorframe, dressed in- “What in the name of the Maker are you wearing?”

     She giggled and threw her arms wide. “Nice hello you got there, Fenris. And I'll have you know that for where I'm taking you, this is perfectly appropriate attire.”

     Fenris looked her over head to toe and had to wonder exactly what sort of strange place that would be. The pink tee and black jeans were normal enough, and in the right circumstances so were the mudcaked leather boots that reached nearly to her knees, but the...other thing...

     “It's a vest,” she supplied, seeing just what his eyes were stuck on.

     “I can see that, but what is it _made_ from?” he asked, eyeing it with trepidation.

     Nickie looked down at herself and grinned. “Originally? I think they might have been plastic bags. Merrill cut them down into thin strings and crocheted them into a vest. Added fringe and beads too. I like it! I even found sunglasses that match all the beads.”

     And she did, too. They were perched now atop her head, frames a hodgepodge of colour the same as the clunky beads worked into the stitches and adorning the fringe work. Taking a closer look, Fenris was actually impressed at what the little elvehn woman had been able to accomplish, even if he thought the clothing item was utterly ridiculous.

     “All right, it's a vest. Now where would you be stealing me off to where... _this_ is a requirement?”

     Nickie stepped into the studio and took a good look at the elf, noting the sweat dripping down his face, cheeks and ears flushed from the heat of the torch. With once white shirt now nearly see through with moisture, he glistened, causing certain areas of her body to tighten. And damn you, Izzy, for putting that word into my vocabulary. In his ripped and faded jeans and old, ratty sandals- safe for working in a metalshop they were not- he looked like nothing more than a beautiful statue. Or maybe a porn star. _Okay, that's the end of that line of thinking!_

     “Remember the band that was playing at The Hanged Man the other night? They're playing a charity gig down at the beach and apparently Anders knows the drummer. She used to be a neighbour or something. Anyway, we're going and we're going to enjoy the beach and get out of this damned city for a while. Do you have a tent? If not you can...share mine...I guess.”

      _A tent? Share?_ Suddenly Fenris couldn't breathe. The idea that- “You...you still wish to...be with me? Like that?”

     Shocked as she was by the question, Nickie was still blushing to the roots of her hair, which just seemed to make her more beautiful in Fenris' eyes. “What do you mean? Of course I still...want you.”

     “But I thought, after Hadriana, maybe things were too...different now.” Nickie wasn't the only one blushing.

     “What happened with Hadrianna was, well, it was bad,” she confessed, reaching out to take a hold of the elf's hand. “But what we had before all that, it was magnificent. I care for you Fenris, more than I thought was possible. I don't want to lose you.”

     “Nor I you,” he replied, and no matter how hard he denied it, Nickie would swear that there were puppy eyes.

     “All righty then!” Nickie clapped her hands together, dragging the mood away from the land of feelings. “Let's get you ready and we can meet Anders out on the Wounded Coast!”

                                    ******************

 

     Anders had managed to stake out a relatively secluded spot to pitch their tents and had even managed to dig out a small fire pit for later in the evening when things quieted down. Carver had talked his way into a weekend off from rehab and was currently resting with Merrill and his mabari, Nox, while Varric and Isabela set up a beer tent farther up the beach. The Hanged Man was donating the booze for the night, all proceeds going to the Fereldan Refugee fund.

     When Nickie and Fenris finally made their way through the throngs of young people milling about the beach, sunbathing and dancing the day away, Anders was in deep conversation with a small, stout woman that both recognized as his drummer friend. She was a dwarf with short, spiky brown hair that had been shaved along the right side and facial tattoos that didn't so much obscure her face as accentuate it.

     When Anders saw them he waved them over with a smile and the woamn turned to face them. Nickie felt a momentary pang of jealousy at how striking she was until Anders' smile widened. When they were close enough, he stepped away from his friend to embrace first her then Fenris, who seemed surprised and mildly concerned as to what to do. It didn't last long enough to be an issue, though, and so he let it go.

     “Nickie, I really must say that you look completely and utterly ridiculous,” Anders chuckled, leading them back to the dwarven woman.

     “I think she looks perfect,” the dwarf answered. “I'm Sigrun. You guys must be the ones he won't shut up about.” She motioned with her thumb towards the mage before extending her hand in greeting. Anders just blushed slightly with a grin.

     “Hi!” Nickie replied, shaking the woman's hand. “I'm Nickie, and this is Fenris. And he hasn't shut up about you guys since we saw you at the Hanged Man.”

     “All right, that's it!” Anders threw his arms in the air and turned away. “I'm going to get a drink. You guys gossip about me while I'm gone.”

     “Oh, don't worry. We will!” Sigrun called after him. “I have so many stories to tell!”

     Anders ears flamed as he wandered off to the beer tent, trying to remember why he had thought it would be a good idea to introduce his current life to his former one. Now, admittedly, his current life was pretty fucking awesome. Leaving the hospital in favour of the clinic, even with the increase in hours and decrease in pay, had lifted a load of stress off his mind. And now living with Nickie- even if her mother was there- was like a dream come true. And even Leandra wasn't too bad now that she knew that he was a doctor. Apparently doctors were a suitable occupation for one of her daughter's friends.

     Now with beer in hand, Anders wandered from the tent and up the coast, enjoying the respite from the noise of the gathering. Not that he had an issue with it or anything, but the peace was comforting. It wasn't often that he was granted a bit of time without the noises of crying children or moans of pain unless it was just as he was laying his head down for sleep. And then he found himself sighing deeply as he heard the sounds of feet scraping against the stones behind him. He turned, ready to ask nicely- or more likely berate angrily- for the person following him to leave him be when he spotted Fenris.

     As usual, the elf looked amazing in black tee and jeans, his feet now bare to the sands of the beach, his hair and markings a shock of white against his darkened skin. Anders' breath caught when he saw what he hoped was heat in the man's emerald eyes. Since their night sleeping as a group in Fenris' bed, the mage couldn't seem to stop thinking about him or Nickie. Together, apart, it didn't matter. The idea of them never seemed to leave his mind.

     Fenris caught up and stood before him, slightly flushed and panting, as though he had raced to catch up with the man. And, of course, the idea of the elf flushed and panting had everything tightening up on Anders' body. With a grin he extended his cup of beer, which Fenris took with a nod and gulped it down, sputtering when he swallowed the now flat concoction. Anders took back the cup with a chuckle and patted Fenris' back until the coughing stopped.

     “To what do I owe the pleasure, Fenris?” he asked, turning back to his walk, Fenris moving up to walk beside him.

     “I wished to speak with you,” he replied, then paused as though unsure of how to continue.

     “Okay. What about?” Anders asked, not about to let the elf off the hook. Hot as he thought the elf was, he still got a perverse pleasure at putting Fenris on the spot. And the quick sideways glare he shot at the doctor had Anders giggling.

     “I...I wished to see how you are getting on with Nickie and her mother.”

     “Okay, I guess. Leandra's not too bad with me. At least now that she knows what I do for a living. Three square meals a day is pretty good too. And Leandra hired this dwarf and his son to act like butlers or something so my laudry gets done for me whenever I turn around. The little elf that's taken over the kitchen is a gem. She makes the most amazing chocolate mouse...”

     Fenris' lips twitched in a grin. “I'm sure the food is wonderful. I meant...how are you and Nickie...getting on?”

     “Getting On?” Anders waggled his eyebrows, smirking at the flush that was deepening across Fenris' cheeks and crawling up his ears. “Oh, I don't know that there's really been any 'getting on', as it were. I mean, what with her mother right there and everything-”

     Fenris stopped dead, grabbing Anders at the elbow and forcing him to halt and turn towards him. “Stop with your useless prattling, Mage, and tell me the truth. Are you and Nickie...involved?”

     “No, Fenris,” Anders answered with a sigh, his grin vanishing. “Your relationship with Nickie is safe. Much as I would like for there to be, there's nothing going on between Nickie and I.”

     Instead of dropping his arm as Anders expected, Fenris instead pulled him closer, less than an inch now separating them. His breath ghosted across Anders lips and he couldn't help the slow slide of his eyelids as they closed in pleasure. This close he realized just how much shorter the elf was to him, the tips of his hair tickling Anders nose and cheeks. They felt like soft feathers or the fur of a wolf. He could feel the heat of Fenris' fingers against the skin of his arm, even as he realized that his other hand was now resting lightly against his hip.

     Fenris didn't know what he was doing, only that it felt right. The sun beating down warmed Anders' skin and shone brightly against the red-gold of his hair. He wanted to run his hands over every inch of the man, wanted to breathe deeply and taste all of him that he could. He found himself pulling the man closer, as close as he could get him, his hands moving to wrap around the back of the man's head and neck, cock strainging through his jeans to feel the twitching of Anders' own. Slowly, carefully, he pulled Anders down towards his lips.

     He tasted of the sun and stale beer, of lyrium and something else, something so very Anders. It started soft, chaste, but deepened quickly into something more. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think for the heady taste that assaulted his lips.

     “Hmmm...Fenris,” Anders mumbled against his mouth. “Fen, are you sure? I mean-”

     Fenris pulled the man back against him, hoping that would show him just how much the elf wanted to be doing this. A moment's hesitation and Anders returned the kiss wholeheartedly, his hands now seeking skin beneath the edge of Fenris' shirt, yanking and pulling until the shirt was discarded on the sand. Emboldened by the mage's actions, Fenris followed suit, removing Anders' shirt so that the two could touch skin to skin.

     Anders had never felt like this, so lost in what was happening, in what he was doing. The world disappeared around them, only Fenris' skin was real, singing beneath his hands. And so when he heard the scream he at first thought it was some strange ploy by his imagination. Until Fenris froze in his arms, that is.

     “Did you-? “Was that-?”

      The second scream was louder, sharper and the two men turned as one and ran towards the sound. Men were laughing, harsh gutteral sounds pierced by pleas for help. A quarter mile away they found a small cove, invisible from the trails that most patrons to the coast used, filled with ragged tents and a badly constructed fire pit. Not to mention three large men that looked as though they hadn't bathed since wintersmarch and a very frightened woman trying to escape them.

      With a barely perceptable nod to each other, Fenris and Anders raced into the camp, the elf reaching for a large, discarded branch to brandish as a club while the other erected a barrier around the two of them.

     The attackers didn't know what hit them. When asked about it later by Aveline, Anders could barely recall everything that went on. He just remembered watching Fenris fight, watching him dance around the trio as though they were nothing more than swaying trees in the wind. They fell quickly to his club, unconscious or gasping for air where they fell. As a doctor, he checked the woman over first but she was more scared than hurt and ran off to find a guardsman to come arrest the miscreants. When he approached Fenris, however, it was as something more.

     The elf stood, panting heavily, his eyes a million miles away in some memory. His skin had paled and his hands shook until he dropped the branch into the sand at his feet. “Fen?” Anders called softly. “Fenris, can you hear me?”

     The elf nodded, a small motion but a good one, and Anders reached out slowly to touch his wrist. Before he could, however, Fenris had spun to wrap his arms around the mage, holding tight at his waist and burrying his head into the man's neck. After a pause, Anders reciprocated the hug, holding the shaking elf's shoulders in his hands.

     They stood that way for some time, until they began to hear the first soft approaching footfalls of people. Fenris pulled back slowly and looked up into the mage's concerned eyes. “I didn't see them. I didn't see three men attacking a woman on the beach,” Fenris whispered harshly. “I saw Nickie and Hadriana and...I over reacted. I nearly killed them.”

      Anders smiled sadly and reached up to kiss the elf's jaw, pulling him in to kiss at his brow. “But you didn't, did you? Because Hadriana and her lackeys are already dust and can never hurt her again. And we'll make sure that nothing ever will, right?”

     Fenris looked up into his warm amber eyes and could only reply with a yes.


	32. Chapter 32

“So are you fucking Anders yet?” Sigrun asked with a grin.

“What!? No! I- at least...not...”

“Not yet, got it.” She chuckled at the blush spreading over Nickie's face. “Don't worry about it. It'll happen, I could see it on his face. Course, the elf was just as smitten if you want my opinion.”

Nickie could feel the blush reaching the roots of her hair. “Fenris and I are...” Dammit! Why couldn't she finish a sentence?

Sigrun just howled with laughter. “Well, damn, girl! Two of 'em, huh? Good on ya! Could never really handle more than a couple at a time myself, though there was that one time in college. Apparently I was center stage during an orgy or something. I was so hammered I really don't remember most of it. Which is too bad cause I'd really like to.”

Nickie stared at the woman, flabbergasted, until she burst into laughter. She could definitely see why Anders liked her. “Can't say as I've ever done anything like that. Not even sure about this whole 'two guys' thing. It may never happen. Anders and Fenris aren't exactly the best of friends.”

“Oh, I don't know. They seemed to be shooting each other some pretty hot looks, too. I could picture the two of them going at it.” Sigrun drifted off, obviously doing exactly that, her grin widening so that Nickie began to laugh. “Oh yeah, that's the stuff...”

“Sig!” A voice called out near the newly erected stage area. “We need you for a sound check!”

“Shit!” she muttered. “Sorry, kiddo. Duty calls. Go wander the crowds. There's supposed to be all sorts of nifty shit going on around here.” The dwarven woman patted Nickie on the arm before running off at a surprisingly quick speed.

Nickie looked around for the boys, seeing as her and Fenris' tent still hadn't been set up but, of course, she was now pretty much alone. With what she would swear was a minimum amount of grumbling, she got the structure up and somewhat secure, though she'd be the first to admit that her camping skills were highly lacking, then grabbed up the satchel she called a purse and headed off to wander the coast.

She popped her head into the beer tent to wave at Varric and Isabela as they raced to fill their orders then continued on to an ever expanding group of tents and booths with vendors of all sorts. It was a riotous cacaphony of sounds and smells and colours that had Nickie breaking into a wide smile. She loved it.

This was the sort of thing that her mother would have dragged her away from. Even in Lothering as a child, Mother was loathe to let them wander anywhere near the local Farmer's Market for fear of the population's 'low born ways' rubbing off on her children. Now, Nickie took every opportunity to visit things like this, fairs, the circus, whatever she could find. Quite often she'd find a corner somewhere and sketch the people she saw, the vendors and children, the couple's in love.

Speaking of couples, where in the Void had the boys gotten off to?

She began to wander the booths, her mind only half on what was going on around her as she watched for the tall blonde and Fenris' shock of white hair. Eyes on other things, she nearly walked right into another booth.

“ _Cara mia_! Careful!” a voice called and Nickie pulled her attention in just quick enough to avoid collision with a quickly vacated chair.

Hands reached out to grip her upper arms when she lost her balance from rapid deceleration. Her own hands whipped up to hit a relatively hard chest and Nickie looked up into laughing amber eyes. “Shit! Sorry! So sorry. I was just looking for someone and not watching where I was going.”

The man was laughing, a thick Anitivan accent colouring his words. “Of course, _Cara mia_. The crowds are thick and one can not watch everything all the time.”

Nickie looked down where his hands were still gripping her arms. His fingers were long, stained with different coloured pigments, skin a dark gold. Her eyes followed up his well defined arms, uncovered presumably to get even more sun. Swirling tattoos wound around his biceps and up under the crop top that he wore and down across his stomach and into the waistband of his tight leather pants. When she realized her eyes had followed the line of the tattoos she quickly looked back up into his face, cheeks flushing. Obviously the tats had done exactly as they were meant to.

Similar sinuous lines adorned his face next to his left eye, drawing attention to both his elvehn ears and the glint in his eyes. And his shoulder-length blonde hair had been tied back wtih braids that were adorned with a riotous amount of hanging black feathers. He was like some sort of primal golden idol. Nickie looked back up into his eye, shocked at how he looked...and that's when he grinned and waggled his eyebrows lasciviously.

She laughed. She couldn't help it, laughing so hard that tears began to run down her cheeks. He chuckled himself and led her to sit in a nearby folding chair. “So glad I could amuse you, but I really must finish up with my client, so sit and try to breathe. I shall return.”

Nickie was still giggling as she looked around the elf's booth. He had moved to another nearby chair facing a man she hadn't noticed before, his bare back to her. There appeared to be a sketch laid there of a rearing griffon rendered in great detail. She stood and approached, suddenly extremely curious. The elf was slowly and carefully filling the picture with colour using what appeared to be face paints.

“I am doing temporary tattoos today, for the benefit,” he said, not looking up from his work. “Normally my work is more permanent.” Glancing around she spied a table littlered with sketchbooks and motioned towards them. “Of course, _Cara mia_. Take a look.”

Picking one at random she returned to her chair to peruse, soon returning to the table and scooping them all up. To say that his work was good was an understatement. Each book held something different, some with fantastical creatures like the griffon, others with brightly coloured cartoon figures while another had monochromatic portraits rendered in loving detail. One was probably brought with the rest by accidnet, filled cover to cover with architectural schematics for what appeared to be a farm house.

“What do you think?”

Nickie looked up to find the elf standing over her, his client vanished. “How long have I been sitting here?” she asked.

“An hour or so. You have been very engrossed,” the elf said with a smile, moving to the back of the booth with his brushes to fiddle with a table covered in cleaning equipment.

“It's worth it. Your work is amazing!”

“ _Gracias, mi querida._ ” He bustled about, liquids sloshing. “Why not take one of my cards? Come by the shop one day.”

Nickie searched the table where she had found the books, spying a small display of business cards and snatching one up. A sketch of a crow's skull had been rendered in pencils, the words Corvus Corax superimposed in flowing italics. Printed beneath that was the name Zevran Arainai, a phone number and a central Lowtown address. “I take it you're Zevran?” she asked.

“Zev to my friends,” he replied with a smile, turning towards her, wiping his hands on a towel. “But you can call me anytime.”

“All right, Anytime,” Nickie giggled, causing Zevran's grin to widen. “I'm Nickie Hawke. Pleased to meet you.”

The elf's eyes widened and his jaw dropped, staring at Nickie until she began to flush. “You? You are...Nickie Hawke?”

“Ummm...yes?”

“ _Dios mio_ , I saw your show!” Suddenly he was reaching out, grabbing up her hands and shaking them profusely, his smile back and wider than ever. “Your work is _fantastico_! Your use of colour and perspective! I was blown away, as they say. I would love to see more!”

Nickie was blushing furiously now, but managed to pull her hands away to take up her satchel purse and pull out her travel sketchbook. “This is all I have on me at the moment but you're welcome to look.”

He snatched it up before she could even finish the sentence, flipping through as he found a seat. He oohed and ahed as he went, asking questions on subject matter and medium. Nickie answered what she could, flushing horribly. She was never very good at taking compliments about her art. Well, about anything at all really.

Zev closed the book and stared at her, causing Nickie to fidget. “May I paint on you?” he asked and she was surprised. He sounded so...reverent. Like he was asking if he could touch one of his idols. She nodded and he all but beamed.

“What shall we adorn you with, hmmm? Oh, just the thing! A dragon, something beautiful and filled with colour. Now I need you to remove your shirt.”

“WHAT?” Nickie squeeked, grabbing her hem and pulling it farther down.

“Not that I do not wish to get a better view of your delectable bosoms, but you need only lift the shirt enough for me to have access to your back and stomach. A sinuous beast that twists from spine and around would be beautiful and something for your paramour to follow with his eyes and...other things.”

Before she quite realized what she was doing, Nickie had her vest on the ground and her shirt hiked up around her armpits, the flush spreading to darken the skin of her entire torso. “Let's do it. Whatever you want. Just use your discretion.”

“Hmmm,” Zevran hummed, rubbing at his chin in thought. “I wish more clients were like you. Yes, yes, I know exactly what to do. Let us begin.”

  
  


It was some hours before Anders and Fenris could rejoin the festivities. One fo the Guardsmen that come to investigate the assault was Brenan, who had been at Nickie's break and enter. She, of course, called Aveline and everything had ground to a halt until the Captain arrived. The woman the boys had aided insisted on knowing everything about them and extold their virtues to the Guard, much to their chagrin. In the end, it was dusk by the time they returned to their tents.

And no Nickie.

“She might be at the concert. It's gotta be in full swing right about now,” Anders suggested. Fenris nodded and, taking the mage's hand, led the way to the stage area. But there was no Nickie there either. They spied Merrill and Carver, with Nox running circles around their legs, but the couple hadn't seen the woman either.

They tried the beer tent but Varric and Isabela were cleaning up, having closed once the music started up, and neither had seen Nickie in some time, since she popped her head in and waved. Fenris was beginning to become concerned, fearful that something had happened to her. Nickie had this wonderful knack of drawing the worst sort around her and getting into trouble. So at his urging, the two men began to wander the miriad of tents and booths set up for vendors.

Fenris heard her voice before finding the booth. “Shit! Zev, that tickles!”

“One more moment, _querida_. One more...there! All finished! Let me just spray on a bit of fixative so that it does not smear too quickly...”

“Oh! That's cold, dammit! Cut that out!”

The only outward sign Fenris gave Anders that he had finally spied her was a sharp tightening around his fingers where the elf gripped, but it was enough. The mage turned and spotted her as well. And was stunned.

Nickie was standing with her shirt drawn up to her breast, showing the smooth expanse of her stomach to a kneeling elf that seemed to glow with a golden light. Moving in a sinuous line from her back around her side to her stomach was an exquisitely detailed dragon in flight, scales lovingly picked out in shimmering gold and emerald. It was...well, it was sexy as hell.

“Wow,” Anders whispered.

Fenris nodded, the barest movement of his head. “Agreed.”

 

 


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been trying to write this FOREVER! Every time I'd get somewhere with it, I'd turn around and erase the whole thing because it was garbage. I give up! This is it, good or bad, take it or leave it...
> 
> NSFW. Tent sex coming your way

“Fenris let go! Where are you taking me?” Nickie cried, trying to pull her wrist from the elf's grip as he pulled her away from a cheering Zevran, Anders following in their wake and laughing. It had been mere moments of shock seeing her temporary tat before Fenris had lunged towards her and begun pulling Nickie away. “Fenris I demand for you to let me go!”

“No,” he growled, sending a shiver straight to her spine. That was not the growl of an angry man. Oh no, not angry at all, but still fiercely passionate.

He pulled her into their tent, Anders not far behind and spun to grab at her other wrist. Nickie was now effectively pinned, arms pulled up against Fenris' chest, his face so close that his warm breath ghosted across her lips. His eyes were focused on hers, pupils blown wide in emerald green. Nickie didn't want to think what her own looked like as she panted against him. Anders, still having not said a word, had come up behind her and gently rested his hands at her hips.

She was sure she started to ask what the problem was, but suddenly Fenris was there, his mouth against her in a bruising clash of lips and teeth. It was rough and desperate, as though he were afraid that if he stopped or slowed, she'd vanish from his arms. Within a few breaths she was kissing him back, hands flat to his chest where he gripped them.

The added sensation of Anders softly kissing along the line oh her neck sent her mind reeling. _Holy Shit! Is this really happening?_ She moaned, pushing back against Anders to try and let him see how good it felt. He chuckled softly against her skin.

“Is this what you want, Nickie? I need to know now before we go too far?” he asked, warm breath ghosting across her skin, making her shiver once again. Fenris pulled back, question alight in his eyes. He berated himself for not asking what she wanted before diving in.

Nickie smiled softly and reached forward to kiss at the elf's lips lightly once again. “Yes. I never thought it would happen, but yes, I want this. But I don't understand. I thought the two of you didn't-”

“Mutual understanding,” Anders interupted with a smile, looking over Nickie's shoulder to Fenris.

The elf's lips quirked up slightly in a smile. “Yes. That is as good a term as any. Mutual understanding. Now. Let's see what we can do of divesting you of this Void taken ugly vest.”

It was not long before each was down to their smalls, fingers itching to touch skin. Anders watched as Fenris stripped Nickie of her breast band, her back towards his chest so that she faced him. He expected to see hesitation in her eyes but instead she looked radiant, happy. As the band joined the rest of her clothing on the floor he found he was having a hard time meeting her gaze, his eyes wandering over her flesh. She was so damned beautiful, like looking at an ancient goddess statue made real. He took a step towards her but Nickie shook her head. Anders paused and she tilted her head towards Fenris who was now standing, carefully avoiding looking towards him.

Anders smiled and moved to kneel before Fenris' feet. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the elf's smalls. After a moment he nodded and Anders slid his fingers beneath the leg bands, slowly sliding the garment to the floor.

Anders knew Fenris was a beautiful man, exotic colouring and mysterious, graceful to the extreme, but to see him completely unclothed and ready nearly had the mage swooning. “I feel like a kid in the candy store with an unlimited bank account,” he quiped. He didn't know where to start. The juxtaposition of Nickie's fair skin and dark hair next to Fenris' was just too much.

“You could start by letting us see you as you see us, Mage,” Fenris growled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes, Ser!” Anders gave him a grin and mocking salute. Standing to slide the cloth to the floor. He was hard, harder than he'd been in a very long time, and having the two objects of his affection staring at him made things clench and twitch.

“Wow,” Nickie whispered. “Who knew all that was hiding in his pants, huh?”

“It is quite impressive,” Fenris agreed.

“All right, you two. Now I'm horribly embarassed and someone needs to come over here and make me feel better.”

Nickie strode forward and took his hand, leading the mage to the sleeping bags that had been set up on the ground, pushing him until he lay flat on his back. His cock twitched in anticipation. Fenris then stepped forward and straddled Anders' hips, laying to trap his erection between them. He trailed his fingers over the mage's chest, lingering on the scar over his heart before trailing down his abdoman. Anders' eyes watched him closely, taking in his tattooed arms and sinuous movements.

Nickie straddled him behind Fenris, bending her head to kiss at the elf's neck and let her arms slip around him, one hand caressing his chest while the other the flat planes of his stomach. Anders flet his arousal flare even higher in his gut.

Fenris leaned forward and kissed Anders' neck, nuzzling against the man with small noises of pleasure. He felt Nickie move, her weight gone from his legs and then she was leaning over Fenris and capturing Anders' lips in a deep kiss.

Anders closed his eyes and let himself fall into it, gentle as a caress. He felt hands moving over his prone body and at first he tried to determine who was touching him where, but as Nickie deepened the kiss, adding more urgency, he just enjoyed the feeling the hands were creating.

They touched and caressed him over every inch of his torso, his thighs, face, neck. Anders was swimming in sensation, his skin electrified. His heart was thudding so hard he thought at first that the entire tent was filled with it until it dawned on him that the music portion of the night was beginning.

Fenris shifted backwards a bit and lifted his hips, Nickie moving to the side with a soft giggle. The elf took over the kiss as he wrapped a hand around Anders' straining erection. The mage sighed in relief, not realizing how badly he had wanted to be touched in the one place they had left alone. Anders' eyes fluttered open as Fenris pulled out of the kiss, arching his back and moaning.

Anders looked over Nickie's shoulder to see Nickie behind Fenris, one hand on his lower back while the other had slipped around to the front to wrap around his length. Just that was nearly enough to send him over the edge.

“Wait,” he croaked.

Fenris' eyes opened and he stopped moving. He took a deep breath and started to move away from the two of them. Nickie, instead, flexed her fingers around the elf, causing him to freeze and groan. “He wasn't telling you to stop, Fenris,” she whispered into his ear. “He's saying you've unmanned him and he needs a moment or he'll spend too soon. Is that what you want?”

Fenris shuddered against her skin. “No,” he replied, his voice thick with lust.

“Then how about we let him calm down a bit? Want to lie down for me?”

Fenris nodded and Nickie released her hold on him, causing him to moan for the loss, but he dutiful did as she requested and lay down next to Anders. Feeling the tall man's heat against his skin was intimately arousing in a way he'd never felt before.

Nickie lay next to Anders, propped up on her elbow to watch the two men. She hummed in approval as they reached for each other, lips softly searching each other's skin. Damn, was it ever hot! She was pretty sure that at this point she must be dreaming, maybe passed out from sunstroke or something but she was not about to complain.

She must have made a noise because suddenly they were both turned to look at her, eyes dark with hunger. She gulped, heat pooling in her belly even as her nerves began to flare. Anders shifted to face her more fully, lightly rubbing his ass against Fenris' length, causing him to groan.

“Are you sure about this, Nickie? Say the word and I can go,” he asked, taking her hand.

“No you can't, Mage,” Fenris purred into his ear, causing him to shiver. “If I can not have you I think I will explode. It will be messy and difficult to explain tot he Guard.”

Anders laughed. “Did you just tell a joke? Oh, now I know I'm dead. You're just a couple of Desire Demons sent to drive me mad.”

“Hush, Mage.” Fenris leaned into Ander's neck and began lapping at the join with his shoulder. Nickie leaned forwards and took his lips with her own, his tongue licking along the seam of her mouth until it opened, allowing him entry. She tasted of sunshine and strawberries and hot metal. Intoxicating.

His hand slid along her hip, the other trapped under his body, barely brushing her skin, until it reached her breasts. They were exquisite, cupping perfectly into the palm of his hand, nipples small and drak against the cream of her skin. She rippled in pleasure, moaning his name which caused him to twitch. That little movement had his ass brushing against Fenris once again.

“Mage, I did not bring anything to...”

Anders knew instinctively what he meant and pulled his hand away from Nickie long enough to call a small Grease spell to his fingers and sliding the mass onto the elf's fingers. “Magic has it's uses,” he chuckled, then gasped as he felt the slick caress his skin.

Then Nickie's fingers were wrapping around his length, a soft caress that slowly tightened and slid with friction. He was being touched, filled everywhere and Anders couldn't help but arch. It was intoxicating, spots of light dancing before his eyes. He never wanted it to stop.

“Please, Anders,” Nickie whimpered into his ear. _Or we could do that..._

His fingers touched the outside of her thigh and she parted her legs for him, fingers now drifting around to seek her center. She was wet. So damned wet and the briefest of touches between her lips had her writhing.

“You're so ready for me, Sweetheart. Shall I?”

“Yes! Maker, Yes!” she groaned loudly, unable to stop moving her hips, legs, everything.

As Anders pulled her closer to slowly slide himself into her damp heat, Fernis removed his fingers from the mage's other entrance and lined himself up to enter. It was awkward at this angle but he would make it work if it killed him.

Anders' ring was tight, almost too tight even with the prep but he managed to slide himself into him with a groan and hiss. The mage froze for a second to allow himself to grow accustomed to the feel of him. And then Fenris was moving, setting the pace and rhythm of their lovemaking. As he moved into Anders' he pushed the man's hips into Nickie, who moaned wantonly and pushed back. The music of the festival rose, crescendoed and as the cheers of the crowd rang throughout the tent the three joined them in a unified, heart pounding finish.

 

 


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I very nearly had to put all of my work on hiatus. My poor little laptop that I just learned is fifteen years old (I bought it used, thought it was only about eight and was impressed with that) very nearly was lost to the digital graveyard, but my landlord/digital god managed to resurrect it for a little while, to give me time to save for a new one.

“So this is your home now?” Fenris asked, looking over the main entry. To say that it was sparse would be putting it mildly, and what little decoration there was reminded him of some of the truely hideous demon statues of Tevinter. They made his skin crawl.

“Yeah. Mother had a decorator come in and create this...ugh! I hate it! But it's her childhood home and I want her to be happy.”

Anders chuckled behind them, adding his camping gear to the pile the others had made. “At least she caught them before they completely redid her room. Everything in my room is so white I'm afraid to breathe in there just in case I get something dirty.”

“I told you you can redecorate any way you wanted!” Nickie exclaimed, turning to slap him playfully on the arm.

“Maybe, but then your mother gave me this look and, well, let's just say that I feel that I should just leave it the way it is.”

“Your room?” Fenris asked, somewhat surprised.

“Of course,” Nickie said. “What? Did you think I made him sleep in the kitchen or something?”

She watched the blush creep up along the edges of his ears. “Well no,” he replied, head down with embarassment. “I just thought that since he was living in your house...”

“He must be sleeping in my bed.” Nickie finished, somewhat coldly.

“Sweetheart, It's all right. It's a somewhat natural assumption,” Anders said, laying a hand softly on her shoulder. “But no, Fenris, until last night in the tent, and, of course, our puppy pile night in your basement, I have never slept with Nickie.”

Fenris had never felt so shamed, his face turning a deep red. “I apologize. I sincerely meant no offense.”

Suddenly he felt arms wrap around him, from both the front and the back, in a tight hug. Nickie's chocolate hair, smelling faintly of the sea, was tickling his nose as Anders' long frame seemed to curl itslef around them. Fenris' hands slowly lifted up to touch at her hips.“It's okay,” Nickie whispered into his shoulder. “I probably would have thought the same in your shoes. Just don't make assumptions anymore, all right? If you aren't certain, ask. I won't bite.”

“Well, not unless you ask,” Anders added, causing the others to chuckle and pull away.

“Come on, let me show you around!” Nickie said with a smile and Fenris nodded, pulled along behind her.

  
  


  
  


He was right about the Tevinter influences. They were everywhere, from the entry to the drawing room, to the back garden. Thankfully, they seemed mostly absent in his favourites- library, kitchen and Anders sleeping chamber. And the mage wasn't kidding, everything about his room was white, making his meager belongings look shabby and unkempt. It might have looked better with his books on the shelves, but he had decided to store them with Nickie's in the library instead.

And now they were standing in the doorway of Nickie's own chambers and Fenris was actually nervous. He wasn't sure why he should be except that everything had been going too well so far. He had found not one, but two people that excited him and that he could care for, and for some reason they cared for him as well. He had a relatively stable income and a home to call his own. Even the car was running perfectly, and that never happened.

“Don't just stop here,” Nickie said with a smile. “Come in, look around.”

One step and he was inside her sanctum. It had definitely been painted a horendous, deep red that couldn't possibly be conducive to sleep. But instead of repainting, Nickie had made it her own. A giant four post bed had been draped with sheer white scarves to make a billowy canopy, while the spread was a mish mash of sewn together scarves that focused on bright blues and greens with just a smattering of golds. The floor was a burnished dark wood that had been liberally covered in throw rugs and pillows of all shapes and colours. It shouldn't have worked, garrish at the very least. But instead it all seemed to just...work. It was all very Nickie.

“What do you think?” she asked, flinging herself across the bed. He was momentarily distract by the sight of her bouncing on the mattress and Anders chuckled behind him.

“It is very...bohemian,” Fenris finally managed to reply. Anders slipped his arms around the elf's waist and nuzzled into his neck. “Mage, is sex all you think about?”

“When I'm with you? You betcha,” he mumbled against Fenris' skin, causing him to shiver.

Nickie watched the two of them, her eyes darkening with lust. The sexual tension was thick in the air and she considered inviting them both to the bed, though she had to admit she was enjoying the show.

Which is, of course, when the damned phone would ring.

“Where the fuck is Leandra?” a voice yelled.

“Nice to hear from you, too, Uncle,” Nickie sighed, holding the phone away from her ear.

“Don't give me your sass! Leandra should have been here hours ago! Where is she?”

“I don't know, I just got in myself. Let me just see if she's in her rooms and I'll call you back.” She hung up the phone before he could yell another word, then lifted the reciever again to press a single button, ringing down to another room in the house. "Bodahn? Have you spoken to Mother today? She was supposed to go over to Gamlen's apparently and never made it." Fenris watched her face with apprehension as her brows drew down. "All right, thank you. And if she calls or shows up could you let me know? Thanks."

She set down the reciever gently, turning to the boys. "So Mother had a date last night and never came home. It's completely out of character. She always makes her lunch dates with Gamlen, if only to rub it in his face that she's back in Hightown."

Anders sat next to her on the bed, reaching out to gently stroke her hair. “Could she have stayed the night with this new guy and just forgotten?”

“I doubt it,” she replied. “Mother...Mother just isn't like that. She'll go on the odd date, if only to prove to herself that she's still a functioning human being. But since Dad died, she's never really had any kind of real relationship. It's just dinner or coffee and then right back home.”

“Perhaps we should telephone this man that she saw,” Fenris suggested. “Do you have a number?”

“No, but there's sure to be one in her room.” Nickie was off like a shot, down the hall and into her mother's bedroom before the others could follow.

What she found took her breath away. Normally her mother's bedroom was oppulent, filled with rich fabrics and colours, a Rococo wet dream. It still was, of course, but now every available surface was covered with vases of white lillies. They were everywhere- the dresser, the nightstands, the top of the television. The bed had loose ones strewn on the spread, the window sill was so covered that the light had a hard time getting in past the petals.

And on every one was a card addressed to Nickie.

 


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Graphic violence, blood, death! 
> 
> I fought with this chapter. I would get to parts and I would have to stop for days. My hands shook, my heart beat faster. I had to cut out some stuff because it was just too much, so it ended up shorter than usual. I'm really sorry, but now that it's done, maybe we can slowly get back to the good stuff.

_Dearest Nichola,_

_A certain someone near and dear to both_

_of our hearts is waiting for you. But I'm afraid_

_I must request a piece of vitally important_

_information be returned before I can possibly release_

_her from my care. You may call who so ever you_

_wish to help you, but know that the more_

_people involved, the less body parts will be intact_

_when you arrive. Lowtown Foundry, in the owner's office_ _._

_Check out some of my work along the way! I find it_

_quite soothing._

_We'll be waiting!_

_Quentin_

  
  


  
  


Nickie stood at the doors to the Lowtown Foundry, staring at the unlit building with fear and rage. At her back stood her friends, all of them prepared to go to war to return Leandra Hawke to her daughter. Anders and Merrill had eached fetched a long staff to better control their magic, though Nickie had forgone one for herself. Fenris had found an old machete in the gardener's shed out back of the house and thanked the Maker it was similar enough to a baseball bat in the long run that he knew how to wield it.

Aveline and Donnic, dressed in plainclothes and in no way officially there, were each armed with Firestar M243 pistols, large and dark and scary looking guns. Varric stood with them, Bianca the Beretta 9mm held at the ready. Even Sebastian, who had been at the Hanged Man chatting it up with the luscious Isabela, had followed along. Normally, he claimed, he would have used a handgun as well but without a concelaed carry permit, Aveline had threatened to arrest him. So he and Izzy had each opted to go with a pair of large kitchen knives instead. The only member of their unusual party missing was Carver, who had been brow beaten into staying at the estate with Gamlen and waiting for news.

They were ready for war and, were Nickie in the frame of mind to tell them, she would have declared her love and pride for each and every one of them.

But, no, now was the time to take back her mother from a mad man.

  
  


 

The building now smelled of gun powder and blood and something that could only be described as ichor. Things had attacked them, things that Kirkwall hadn't seen in Ages. Demons and Shades called from the earth to guard the area where the offices were kept. It was nightmare enough to make a person's head spin, but they fought through and made their way into the small hallway of offices.

They spread out, two people each taking a room, so that they covered more ground and didn't all bunch up in the doorways. With Fenris at Nickie's back, she slowly cracked open the door of what was the Human Resources Department. It was dark, too dark to make out much of anything and though there was a window high on the wall, very little light was filtering through.

“Fenris?” Nickie whispered harshly. “Is there a light switch or-”

Slowly, Fenris began to light his brands, something he was wont to do, but Nickie needed light, and so he would make it light.

The room was nothing less than an abatoire. The walls, the window, the furniture were all covered in smears and pools of blood. Happy faces had been drawn on the one wall that wasn't completely splattered, fingers dragged through the viscous mess for paint. And on the desk was what Nickie's brain insisted was an uncooked roast, though it was much too large and...human.

Fenris swore under his breath, dragging Nickie out and against his chest, dousing his light and slamming the door as he did. He could hear her softly repeating that it wasn't her against his skin. “How can you be sure?” he asked.

“That was Alessa, a friend of Mother's,” she replied. “Her head was on the chair.”

  
  


  
  


They found him in the owner's office, the only clean room in the building. He was an older man, russet hair going grey at the temples, deep laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. And he was laughing as he leaned against the thick mahogany desk in the room, the office chair pulled to the front but spun to face the back wall. Nickie couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw the barest silhouette of someone in the chair.

“She said you'd come, you know,” he laughed cheerily. “How brave you were, how proud she was of you. ' _My Nichola will come for me and when she does, she will rain down fire and ice upon your sorry soul.'_ Bit of a flare for the dramatic, your mother.”

“Where is she, you sick son of a bitch?” she demanded. Slowly, carefully, her friends fanned out at her back.

“Why, right here,” he replied, waving a hand towards the chair. “But first I must have the information that our mutual aquaintance requires.”

Nickie reached into her jacket pocket and removed a mini-disk, hoping against hope that he would believe that this was whatever he was looking for. “You mean this?”

“Of course, of course! Give it here and I will release your mother, no harm done.”

Nickie didn't know if it was the look in his eye at that moment or just the atrocities they had already seen, but in her heart, she knew that her mother was already dead. With a scream, the disk burst into flame and she threw it at his face. It hit and the fire spread to his hair and clothing, dousing him in dancing flame. And if he hadn't been hit just then with multiple bullets he might have taken a long time to die.

Heedless of what was going on at that moment, both Nickie and Anders rushed to the chair to free her mother. To say that it was horrible would be to put too light a spin on it. Even to Anders clinical medical eye it was nothing short of inhumane torture. He prayed to whatever deities may exist that she had been dead when he had done these things to her.

And Nickie screamed. Screamed until she felt the world crashing down upon her

  
  


  
  


  
  


 

 


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've entered another of my fics in the Inkitt fanfiction contest. http://www.inkitt.com/stories/24701
> 
> If you've read and like the first book from Tale of the Stranger or you're considering reading it now, head on over. It's the only Dragon Age fic I've found!

Nickie perched on the edge of her bed staring down at her hands, twisting them back and forth and around each other. One of the few things she had inherited from her mother, her hands. Only that scar, thick tissue that ached in the cold, seperated mother from daughter in that respect. Especially since Leandra had introduced her to manicures. For all that Nikie wasn't a fan of Hightown life, she could get behind a good mani-pedi.

They were arguing about her downstairs again. She could hear the bunch of them going back and forth. She needed time alone, she needed time outside, she needed this or that or the other thing. Strangely enough, though, no one had actually asked her what she thought _she_ needed. Nickie was a non-entity in their bid to make her feel better.

Well, dammit! There was no feeling better from this! Nickie stood abruptly, swaying for a moment before stalking to her window. They wanted her to go outside? Fine! She threw open her window and pulled in the screen, swinging her leg out over the edge. She didn't think she'd ever been so grateful that she had asked for a rose trellis to be planted under her window. A couple of thorn scratches were a small price to pay to get away from the voices.

Nickie ran. She didn't care where to or for how long, just ran. She didn't see the disapproving looks from the old Hightown biddies strolling out to see and be seen. She didn't see the merchants sticking their heads out the doors of their stores in concern, or the Guardsman making a quick call on his cell as he watched her pass. No, what she sees is Leandra. Leandra laughing at her childhood antics, smiling towards her father, kissing a cut on toddler Carver's knee. She sees the disapproving looks when she told her mother she wanted to be an artist. The hate when the firemen told her that Bethany was dead. The cold superiority when she gave her Leandra her childhood home.

She sees the blood. The blood on her hands.

 

Sebastian Vael smiles softly and raises his head from prayer. It's been too long, in his mind, since he's spent any quality time here in the Chantry, what with trying to reclaim his family's legacy, and he misses it terribly. But duty must come first. With a soft sigh he rises from his knees and settles back into the pew, enveloped in the strong smell of lemon wood polish. At least the acolytes are still doing their jobs without him there to supervise, he thinks ruefully.

He feels older than his thirty-five years lately. Knees popping as he moves, back aching from being bent over as long as he was. But it's a good ache, the kind that reminds you that you're alive. Unlike poor Lady Amell. Sebastian's shoulders slump just a little at the thought. To have been brutalized so horribly... He shuddered, pushing back the remembered scenes. He already suffered nightmares over what had gone on there, he didn't need to be thinking about it now.

For some time he sat there, staring up at the statue of Andraste, pleading for guidance, or a way to maybe help the poor girl that had so recently lost her mother. Enough time that it was quite chilly in the cathedral when he noticed that someone had entered and left the doors open to the evening sky.

He was already half-way up the center aisle, muttering to himself about 'kids and their lack of respect' when he spotted her. Curled into the darkest corner of the farthest pew from the light of the doors or any candles, she's shaking with something other than cold, though she's only dressed in a pair of sleep pants and thin tee shirt. Her thick, dark hair is a dishevelled mass adorned with fallen leaves and her bare feet are covered in mud. Or what he hopes is mud. And while her knees are tucked up to her chin, her arms are outstretched in front of her, her hands out as though liquid dripped from them and she didn't want to get any on her.

“Misstress Hawke?” he called softly. “Nickie? Are you all right? What are you doing here?”

She giggled, a broken sound that sent shivers up his spine. “I can't get them clean.”

Sebastian took a step closer, and when she didn't flinch or move away, he slid in next to her. “What do you mean, Lass? Can't get what clean?”

“My hands. Her blood is on my hands and it won't go away. Why won't it go away?”

He looked down at her shaking fingers, unmarred save for a bit of mud and the thick scar tissue in the center of her palm. “There is no blood, Nickie. A bit of dirt, yes, but no blood.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, incredulously, turning them back and forth in the air in front of her eyes. “I would swear...”

He took her hands and held them between his palms, rubbing the skin to warm it. She tried to pull back, gasping that he would get blood all over his clean clothes but he ignored her protests. He tugged at her hands until she turned to face him instead of the back of the next pew and smiled. “There is no blood on your hands nor any on me. But you are frozen to the bone, Lass. Why don't we go and speak with Elthina about loaning you some shoes and maybe a sweater, then I'll walk you home. Where abouts are your protectors, hm?”

Nickie tilted her head, eyes tinged with confusion. “My protectors?”

Sebastian stood and pulled Nickie along to follow as he made his way to the back of the vestibule. “Yes, Fenris and Anders. Varric and your brother. Where is everyone?”

She barked out a derisive snort. “Probably haven't even realized that I've left yet while they figure out what's best for me.”

Sebastian nodded with a sad smile, pushing aside a tapestry to reveal a hidden wooden door. “I understand,” he said, opening the door and motioning for her to enter with a light nudge at the small of her back. “When my family...died...there were a multitude of people that began trying to make my decisions for me. What was good for my country, what was good for me, how I should mourn. But I was lucky. There was someone that I could turn to that just listened. She made no judgements, no decisions. She just sat and listened to me go on, and cry and blubber and scream all the things that I needed to to be able to move on.”

“I would kill for someone like that,” Nickie laughed harshly.

“You have but to ask, My Lady,” Sebastian replied with a smile.

  
  


Nickie couldn't remember how she'd gotten to the Chantry or meeting up with Sebastian or leaving the vestibule for the inner sanctum of the church, But she did remember the wet, viscous feeling of blood on her hands. Even with all the assurances that the prince gave her, Nickie found herself looking at her hands and wondering where it had gone.

When she heard the soft sussuration of other voices, she looked up and around. They seemed to now be in a long stone hallway, aged tapestries lining the walls and a soft, worn runner underfoot. It was like walking into the past. Well, right up until she glanced into a room they passed and spotted a cleric chatting on her cell phone. “Surreal,” she whispered to herself.

Sebastian chuckled. “It can seem that way, yes. This Chantry building was erected in an age when dragons still roamed Thedas, over the bones of the one destroyed just before the Mage-Templar War. If you've an interest, I can schedule a day with Elthina to take you on a proper tour.”

Nickie didn't answer, but her mind drifted to maybe bringing her sketchbook to detail the old beauty of the place. So lost in thought she didn't notice when Sebastian lead her into a large, plush office and closed the door behind them.

“Hello, Elthina,” Sebastian said with a smile and Nickie looked around to spot a woman standing up from behind a large mahogany desk. She was tall, but then everyone was tall compared to her, with silvery grey hair tied up tight to her head and dressed in the Chantry's prefered uniform robes. With shining blue eyes and a deep smile, she looked like everyone's favourite grandmother. Nickie found herself immediately returning her grin.

“Sebastian! The woman exclaimed, coming around to embrace him. “It has been too long! How are you fairing, dear boy?”

He chuckled softly. “Fine, fine. I promise to tell you all about at a later date. For now, may I please introduce Misstress Nichola Hawke, and possibly beg of you a sweater and perhaps a pair of shoes? The chill is not quite conducive to barefoot wanderings.”

Nickie felt her cheeks redden under the woman's scrutiny, but she needn't have bothered. “Of course, of course! Let me just rummage through my cupboards for a moment. Sebastain, why don't you wander off to the kitchens and fetch tea for all of us? And perhaps some of those scoones left over from the social that was held last night.”

With a nod and a quick grin, Sebastian was out the door and Nickie was left alone with Elthina, who was now bent over a large box on the floor of a very old wardrobe, rummaging through odds and ends. It seemed so odd, so surreal to Nickie that she couldn't help but laugh. Elthina looked back at her over her shoulder, backside still up in the air and a smile spread across her cheeks. “Find this funny, do you, young lady?”

Nickie couldn't help but nod her head and laugh. The absurdity of it all, everything that had happened over the last hour, the last few days, her entire laife had her laughing so hard that tears began to fall. She never realized when the laughter turned to great wracking sobs, just that Elthina had come up to wrap her up in her arms and lead her to a small sofa up against a wall. The two sat there, Nickie crying into Elthina's robes until long after Sebastian returned with the tea. In fact, it continued right up until Nickie cried herself into exhaustion, falling asleep with a soft little hiccup against the woman's shoulder.

  
  


“Are you alright, Elthina? I can move her if you wish?” Sebastian asked, standing from the chair he had taken after setting out the tea.

“No, thank you, Sebastian. If you could, though, I believe I may have spotted the sweater I was looking for at the bottom of the box, and there's a pair of tennis shoes that should fit there as well. If you could get them I would appreciate it. The poor thing is chilled to the bone.”

“Of course!” He found what she asked in quick order, draping the thick black cardigan over |Nickie's shoulders and kneeling to wiggle her feet into the tennis shoes as gently as he could, so as not to wake her. He had a feeling that sleep had not been something she had a lot of lately.

“Tell me of her, Sebastian,” Elthina said. “Who is she to you and why is she so distraught?”

Sebastian sighed and settled back into his chair. Where to start? “I met Nickie not long ago at her gallery opening. She is an artist, quite talented really. Paintings of fantastical landscapes. I don't know if we could be called friends, but we have acquaintances in common. And since many of the contacts that I meet in regards to Starkhaven wish to meet at the Hanged Man, we have a growing number of friends in common. Very recently she lost her mother to a murderer, the Lady Leandra Amell.”

“Ah, yes. A gruesome affair. I presided over her pyre myself. I remember proclaiming her for the Chantry when I was a new officiate and Leandra was just a babe. It was awful. This is Leandra's daughter?” Elthina began stroking Nickie's hair softly. Picking out leaves and twigs as she came across them.

“Yes. Her eldest, as a matter of fact. There is also Carver, a younger son and there had been another daughter who has since died.”

“Tragic,” she tsked. “Simply tragic. I take it Misstress Hawke has not been taking the death of her mother well?”

“There have been...issues, yes. From what I understand from our mutual friends, the two never really got on. Things were left...unfinished between them.”

“And you would know all about unfinished, wouldn't you my boy?”

Sebastian thought back to his own childhood, the constant barage of disappointment from both parents and brothers, the disapproval of everything and anything he set his hand to. He ended up becomeing something of a playboy in his youth, garnering attention in the worst way until the courts gave him the choice of jail time or the church. Turned out to be one of the best decisions he had ever made. But his family was slaughtered, taken down by assassins right down to the last child, and he had never had the chance to speak with them again. Unfinished is definitely how he would look at it.

Suddenly there was a small flurry at the door as a tiny sister knocked and let herlsef in, hands twisting around each other. “Grnad Cleric, I'm sorry, but there are guardsmen here and they are insisting that they be allowed to search for someone and I didn't-”

“It's alright, Sister Tabitha,” Sebastian said soothingly, standing slowly from his chair. “That will most likely be Aveline looking for Nickie. I'll go talk to her and let her know what's going on.”

Elthina nodded and the two made their way from the office and back to the vestibule. When they were gone, the woman leaned back slightly to get a better look at Nickie's face. She could see a slight resemblance to the Amell's now, though she clearly took after her father. It had been quite the scandal when Leandra had up and eloped with the man, breaking off her engagement with...what was his name again? Oh, De Launcet! Pompous Orlesian bastard to this day. Don't blame her. But this girl...She flashed back to the solicitous ways that Sebastian had been caring for Nickie and smiled. This girl would be one to watch, that was for certain.

 


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate losing my internet but here we go, after two weeks of being off line. I'm going to try and put these out a little more quickly, but I'm pretty sure I've said this before...sorry...

For the next few weeks, someone was always at Nickie's side. Anders and Fenris were nothing if not attentive to her every need, and it was driving Nickie nuts! They were there when she woke in the morning and when she went to bed at night, no matter the hour. They prepared her meals, celaned up after and were just generally everywhere. If she didn't run off to the bathroom every once in a while they'd never leave her alone.

Today it was Anders plastered to her side, Fenris having to go to a meeting with a potential client, and she had at least managed to convince him to take her out to the Lowtown markets to do a bit of shopping. The temperature was a bit brisk, but with the sun shining in a clear sky, it would warm up nicely later in the day and Nickie wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. Dressed in simple tights and loose tank, topped with a thick oversized cardigan, she hadn't felt this comfortable in months.

Arm draped over Anders arm, the two of them wandered the square, stopping at artisan booths and chatting with acquaintances they hadn't seen in a while. When some gave their condolences in regards to her mother she smiled a little sadly and nodded her thanks, a little lump forming in her throat. Anders would thank them and pull her away to keep the tears from falling.

When it got to be just that little bit too much, the two of them ducked into the nearest shop. That it appeared to be a used book store made it all the better. Nickie sqealed in delight, eyeing the leather bound tomes spread on the shelves around her, Anders chuckling as he watched. What? She couldn't like old books? Alot of her old collection had been damaged during the fight with Hadriana and her goons, and she'd never really gotten around to replacing them.

She wandered around the shelves a bit, absorbing the smell of aged paper and dust the permeated the place. That smell that screamed history and knowledge. Eventually she lost Anders in a pile of medical texts while she perused the histories and travels section. She started to pick up an old copy of something written by a Chantry Brother when a flash of gold leaf on thick black leather caught her eye.

It was a relatively plain book, the leather that deep black colour that seemed to suck in the light, the silhouette of a single tower embossed in gold leaf the only decoration. No author, no title, nothing but the tower. Curiosity piqued, Nickie pulled the book towards her and began to leaf through it's this vellum pages. A quick perusal prooved that they appeared to be a book about early Tevinter history, including the occupation of what would eventually become Kirkwall. It was interesting and she soon became engrossed. That was, until she came across the pages that were obviously not part of the original printing.

Ten pages, handwritten on the same vellum and bound into the center of the book. They were nearly impossible for Nickie to decipher at first, her knowledge of Tevene relegated to how to start a bar fight and asking the price of a beer, but eventually she realized that they were the pages of a spell book. And not just any spell book, but that of a blood mage magister.

_Fuck!_ She thought to herself, slamming the book closed and holding it tight to her chest. _Holy Maker's crap on a cracker! Blood magic! Does the proprieter know what he's got in here? The Special Forces would burn this place to the ground if they found out!_

“You all right, Sweetheart?” Anders asked from her elbow, eliciting a squeak as she turned to face him.

“Shit! Don't do that!” she exclaimed, scowling at his little grin. “You are way too damned quiet!”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. You done? I'm feeling the need for some coffee.”

Nickie looked down at the book in her arms and made a quick decision. “Yeah, just let me pay for this and we can go.”

  
  


She felt like the book was burning a hole in her purse the entire way home. And, of course, Anders had to stop and pick up the biggest take out cup of coffee he could get his hands on. And it started to rain and they had to duck into a covered alcove for a few minutes until it stopped- which wasn't too bad because Anders got it in his head to start kissing at Nickie's neck while they waited, ostensibly to lick away the rain drops, or so he claimed. Then, of course, there was a car accident because of the rain a block from the house and Anders' doctor training kicked into high gear and he waded in to lend a hand. So by the time they made it back to the thankfully empty estate, Nickie was champing at the bit to get online and download a Tevene dictionary and start perusing her find.

The next trick was to find a good dictionary that wasn't blocked by the Free Marches Theocracy. One thing Nickie really hated was the church telling her what she could and could not learn. Finally she found the sight for a rebellious archivist- something else she had no clue existed- and his library or Tevinter works dating all the way back to the Blessed Age. A quick membership payment, because even rebellious archivists need to eat, and a Tevene to Trade dictionary was speeding on its way.

Well...speeding might be a loaded term. It was an extremely large file and not even the internet was instantaneous, no matter how many providers claimed they were, so Nickie set about checking her email as she waited, where she found one of her former web design clients was in need of help, so she began corresponding with him, then the phone rang and Bianca Davri kept her distracted with talk of another show. Soon after, Fenris came home with take out Rivaini Vandaloo and the boys quickly settled onto the bed with a dinner picnic that had Nickie laughing and joining in. Before she knew it, the night was gone and the book would just have to wait until morning.

Or, at least, that's what she told herself. It turned into more than a week before she really had the time to herself to sit and begin translating. All she really managed to get done during that time was print out the dictionary and store everything in the floor safe under the bed her mother had insisted be installed. She wouldn't want the boys getting the wrong idea about a blood magic spellbook, now would she?

But today she was alone, free to do as she willed. Fenris had a deadline to make for a client and would be spending the entire day in his studio, while Anders had a double shift at the clinic, covering for another doctor that had run off and eloped. Even the dwarves, Bodahn and Sandal, that cared for the house, were off and visiting relations closer to the Merchant's Guild.

And after a little more than an hour Nickie was pulling softly at her hair and cursing the Tevinter Imperium for it's complete lack of syntax. Half way through the first page she realized that, even with a direct translation of the words, they didn't seem to make up a coherent sentence. It was frustrating to say the least.

She thought, for just the briefest of moments, of asking Fenris, but that was just not going to happen. Okay, yes, he was from Tevinter and knew the language backwards and forwards, but there was no way she was telling him that it was to translate a spell book. For blood magic, at that. There was just no fucking way!

It also brushed across her thoughts to ask why she was bothering in the first place. She was no blood mage, after all. Well, there was that one time to save Anders but she had never touched the stuff again, so why so interested in it now? But it was history and interesting, and a treasure buried inside a book that no one knew was there. Her curiosity just couldn't help itself.

Finally, she decided to just go ahead and translate the pages word for word and go back to figure out the syntax later. That wouldn't be too hard, right?

Right.

 


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DATE NIGHT! Or at least the first part of it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be posting the reference pics for Nickie's outfit on my tumblr if you want to take a peak.
> 
> tatteredspiderweb.tumblr.com

They had a date.

A real date, all three of them. Okay, it was a pretty casual one as dates went, dinner at the Rivaini place that Isabela was continuously expounding on out by the docks, then Friday night dancing at the Hanged Man, but it was the first real outing the three of them had had together as a...couple? Threesome? Whatever you call it? And Fenris had never been so damned nervous in his life.

He had no clue as to why- he cared for Nickie more than he was willing to admit and Anders was...well he felt something for the man, but what it was he wasn't certain. And it's not like the three of them were completely unknown to each other in the more intimate sense. But they had never really gone out and shared a romantic evening together as a group and Fenris didn't know what to expect. Or what was expected of him in return.

But he couldn't put it off any longer. Straightening the waistband of his dark jeans for the umpteenth time, he pocketed keys and wallet and made for his car.

Tonight, Anders would be driving them to their destinations, since Fenris' own car was filled with bits and pieces of scrap metal and car parts, but a meeting Nickie had with the gallery owner that showed her work would run a little late so he had opted to meet them at her home. It was a beautiful night, as those things went, bright with the first stars of the evening, and clear. A little chilly though, as the year sped towards its end and fast approaching Satinalia.

And that was another thing. Fenris had never had to deal with holidays before. Until recently he had always been alone or with...Dan. And they did not celebrate the same holidays in Tevinter that they did here. Fenris understood that gift giving was common at Satinalia and he was stuck as to what to get for the new mages in his life, not to mention the plethora of other friends he had made in recent months. Maybe Varric could help. He was happy to stick his nose in things, he'd probably have a great many gift ideas.

Shaking his head ruefully, Fenris grabbed his leather jacket from on top of the bed and marched for the stairs. Time to face the tiger, Nickie and Anders awaited.

  
  


“Nickie! Hurry up! Fenris will be here any second and we have reservations!” Anders called up the main staircase in exasperation. Though, truth to tell, neither Nickie nor Fenris was running late so much as he was ready early and anxious to get the evening started. It was as though the longer he waited for the two, the more his body wanted to return to the clinic and get work done. Or he wanted to turn back around to his room to continue reading about the first mage revolution so many Ages ago. It gave him a bit of a thrill to realize that the first real push towards the uprising began right here in Kirkwall, though blowing up the old Chantry building had probably been a bit of overkill. Now, the old Gallows, that might have been something...no. That probably would have killed more mages than it saved. It was too bad that the name of that long ago apostate had been stricken from every record the Chantry could get their hands on. He would have liked to know his name.

 

Anders train of thought was suddenly, and irrevocably, derailed. Standing at the top of the stairs, smiling that quirky little smile that lit up a room, was the most beautiful woman in his life. He couldn't breathe, struck dumb at the sight of her. He watched as she made her way down the staircase, gripping the bannister as she wobbled just slightly on heels she wasn't completely accustomed to. She wore black dress pants, for once, with a matching corset top tied at the waist by a soft velvet ribbon, though in her usual boho style she had opted to wear a white scoop neck tee underneath that seemed to enjoy jumping off one shoulder. To cover the expanse of flesh at her throat she had opted to go with a torque made of giant faux diamond beads and matching brooch at the decollatage of her corset. On anyone else it probably would have looked ridiculous, but on Nickie it was just right.

But what really had him flabbergasted was her hair. She had straightened it. Normally Nickie's thick, wild waves of dark hair lent themselves to her air of carefree enjoyment of life, but now? Now she looked nothing more than a sultry sex goddess, and he was more than prepared to worship at her feet.

“Okay, Handsome, I'm ready. You going to quit your bitching now?” she asked with a grin and he couldn't help but smile back.

“Soon. Fenris isn't here yet.”

“Yes I am,” a voice said softly behind them and Anders turned to spy the elf, staring at Nickie as he had been. “Nickie, you look...you are wearing pants.”

She giggled, gliding up to Anders side to take his hand in hers, reaching out to do the same for Fenris. “Yes. I am wearing pants. Real pants, too, not just jeans or cut offs. Alert the media, the world is about to end.”

Fenris turned his attention to Anders and the mage could see by the tinge to the tips of his ears that the man had actually begun to blush. “You look good as well, Anders.”

Now Anders didn't really think that was all that true. He had just grabbed one of his last few white button down shirts, rolling up the cuffs because he really hated having his wrists bound up like that, and a pair of black jeans that only had one small hole at the knee. Fenris, on the other hand, was dressed all in black from his crisp jeans to his tee shirt and leather jacket. With his white markings and hair and dark skin to contrast, he was breathtaking in his own right. Glancing from Nickie back to Fenris, Anders had to wonder how he got so damned lucky.

“Come on,” Nickie said with a smile, scooping up a bright red wool wrap from the entry table and pulling Anders along. “Let's get this night started, gentlemen.”

  
  


  
  


Nickie laughed, watching Anders down another glass of milk. Apparently Rivaini vandaloo was not to his pallate's liking. Thankfully this particular establishment stocked the thick druffalo milk as a regular beverage, the best thing to coat the tongue and take out the sting of the spices.

Fenris, on the other hand, was relishing the heady aromas of the curried dishes the waiter brought out to them. Remebering some of the meals the elf had prepared for her, she knew that while Tevinter used more sauces in their dishes, the spices were similar and she was glad that he was enjoying his meal. It was nice to see him relishing the simple foods with what could only be called a smile.

They'd managed to find a quiet little u-shaped booth with enough fake foliage around it to obscure the other patrons of the tiny restaurant unless they happened to be walking directly towards the table. Nickie in the center meant that both of her companions could sit beside her with ease, although there was a lot of knee brushing and feet kicking going on. Finally, with a chuckle, she wrapped her lower legs around one of each of theirs and all was calm again.

In fact, she thought to herself, it was actually really comfortable. She thought for sure that with her pre-date jitters that things would end up awkward but as soon as she came down the stairs and saw the look in Anders' and Fenris' eyes she had calmed and they were chatting and laughing as though they had done this a thousand times.

She had thought about cancelling again and again, even though she had been the one to suggest the date in the first place. All she had really wanted to do was spend more time translating her book. She was finally starting to make real headway and didn't want to be interrupted, but no. The boys needed her attention and now was as good a time as any. Not to mention she hadn't been to a Friday Night dance party ant the Hanged Man since before her mother died and it was about time she got herself back out into the world.

“Maker's hairy ball sac, Nickie! What is with this food?” Anders exclaimed, waving his hand at his tongue. Fenris snorted into his lamb, fighting to school his mirth.

Hit with sudden inspiration, Nickie reached out and grabbed Anders' collar, pulling him close. “Let's cool that down, shall we?” She then rested her lips against his, lightly running her tongue along the soft swell of flesh until he opened for her. Then with the mildest of ice spells, she blew the chilliest of air across his tongue.

He hummed in appreciation, pulling back slowly. “Oh, that feels much better. Thank you, Sweetheart.”

“What about me?” she heard Fenris rumble softly and so she turned, repeating the kiss- though this time without the ice. There was no way the elf would appreciate the magic used on his person, no matter who used it. He moaned into her mouth, a deep sound that seemed to reverberate around her bones and had her toes curling in her heels. Okay, so maybe date night hadn't been such a bad idea after all.

 

 


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas Eve!!!
> 
> Sorry about the wait...again...but, you know, Christmas! All the shopping (well, not for me cause I'm poor) and the baking (okay, there's a fair bit of that because it's my favourite part of the holiday) and the family (ugh!) it's been crazy!

“Princess! Long time no see!” Varric called from the bar as he deftly slid a couple of beer bottles in the general vicinity of a couple college girls as they giggled, staring at the guys out on the dance floor.

Nickie smiled, waving at I towards Isabela in greeting as she worked further down the bar. It was busy tonight, even for a Friday, and Nickie was already starting to feel just a little touch of claustrophobia. Young bodies pressed up tight together, girating wildly...okay, maybe it wasn't claustrophobia that was making her breath hitch and her palms itch. “Hey, Varric,|” she finally replied once he was able to get within non-shouting distance. “I'd ask how's business but I can kind of tell already.”

Varric smiled widely and glanced around the bar with a proprietary air. “Yeah, she's doing real good tonight. Satinalia around the corner, all the kids heading home to mom and dad where they have to behave themselves in front of the relatives. So they come out here before hand to get their fling on before heading back to 'dullsville'.”

“'Dullsville'? Really?” Nickie laughed. “Your old man is showing there, dwarf. Better reign it back in before anybody sees.”

“Ha ha, very funny Princess. Now what can I get for you? Did the guys come out tonight, too, or are you trolling for fresh meat in your swanky get up tonight?”

Nickie scanned the crowd before spotting Anders at a far table from the bar, tucked into a dark corner where the lights from the floor barely reached. It was too far away from the main events for most people to want to sit but Nickie had to admit it was probably perfect for the three of them. She pointed out the table to Varric, finally catching a glimpse of Fenris' white hair at the doctor's elbow. “We're over there, tonight. Do you mind sending Norah over later for more drinks? I'll grab a couple of sodas and a bottle of that Tevinter red you swear you don't have but I know where it is don't even try and lie to me dwarf.”

Varric stopped still for just a moment before bursting into laughter. “You got it, Princess.” With quick, economical movements he sets up a serving tray with two cans of soda-'regular for Blondie, diet for Princess. Because Maker for fend she drink a little bit of real sugar, oh no!'- as well as the bottle of wine that seems to appear in his hands from dimensions unknown and a glass. “When I send Norah over I'll make sure she gets the tray.”

Nickie lifts it with the ease of an old pro, which she sort of is. “Thanks, Varric. Have fun!” She laughs when he gives her the finger with a smile and wends her way carefully to the out of the way table that Anders has chosen. It's not easy, wall to wall patrons moving and dancing, no one able to hear her over the music as she calls out for people to move or apologies when they collide. It's like living inside a pinball machine.

Suddenly a pair of large, meaty hands grab Nickie about the waist and pull her bodily backwards, into what could only be called a barely clad cock. “Hey there, darlin'” a voice slurs in her ear, “Why don't you bring those drinks over to our table? Bet we could make your night a whole lot more fun.”

_Well shit_ , Nickie thinks to herself, glancing around to try and find the boys past the crowd of gyrating bodies to no avail. _Guess I'm on my own._ “You know,” she says, lips curving into a syrupy fake smile, “I would love to just hand these over and hang with you boys, but you know the owner, Varric, gets _really_ upset with guys that get too handsy and has a tendency to pull out Bianca.” From the way the man tensed behind her, she knew she had struck a chord. “Oh, you know Bianca? Isn't she wonderful? So sleek and shiny. And Varric takes her out to the gun range at least three times a week. It used to be more but he cost them too many targets and he had to pare it down a little. I'm sure I could get his attention and have him show her to you.”

The man released her so quickly that Nickie actually stumbled before turning to face the idiot. She recognized him as a regular that worked over at the nearby foundry, along with his buddies at the table, all now rather pale faced and sweaty.”Ah shit, Miss Nickie, I didn't realize it was you!”

“And what? You do this to other girls? I catch you again and you'll be lucky if Varric just bans you from the bar, got it?”

The men nodded too quickly and stuttered apologies as I turned and walked away. Let them think about their faux pas and if they forget, she'd make sure Varric knew all about them. With an exaggerated sigh I wound my way around the floor of dancers and made my way to the table with the boys.

The boys that were tonsil deep in each other.

“Oh, so that's how it is,” Nickie joked, the boys pulling away with chagrin. “Send the woman to do the fetching so you two can suck face.”

“We were not 'sucking face',” Fenris argued, face flush and panting slightly, trying his best to tug at his pants in a surreptitious manner. Anders just grinned as Nickie placed the tray of drinks on the table. “We were merely...”

“We were kissing, Fenris,” Anders said. “It's okay, you know. It's not like we're doing anything behind her back.”

Fenris ducked his head, flush changing from excitement to embarrassment. “I don't...I...” _How to explain? Fenris had never been able to show how he felt for another before Nickie, and now, to have a second person to feel so strongly about..._

Nickie reached out and scooped up Fenris' hand. Six months ago, Fenris would have pulled back reflexively, but now he let her pull his palm to her lips, a soft kiss brushing against his skin. “It's all right, Fenris,” she said softly. “I's be snogging the Void out of him too if I were you.”

Anders chuckled and the two of them began conversing over the blare of music all around them. Fenris just watched, eyes riveted on these two disparate yet completely beautiful people. He found it strange, thinking about it, how very different his life was now compared to his years with Dan. There was no pain disguised as pleasure, no decisions about his life made without his consent. No theft, no humiliation, no torture labelled love. And who would have thought that he would have these feelings about not one, but two, mages, after everything that Daniel did to him? Certainly not him, anyway.

Falling in love with Nickie had been as simple as sliding into a warm bath. It had been natural, as though he had always loved her but never met. Anders, on the other hand, had been something of a struggle. Perceived jealousy had apparently been masking something else, something much more interesting. And once the damned blinders had been ripped off, everything had become so much clearer.

“Hey! No deep thoughts on date night!” Anders teased, reaching out to take the elf's other hand. Nickie was looking at him in concern so Fenris quirked up the edges of his lips in his signature grin, dispelling her apprehension. Warm fingers entwined his in each hand and Fenris shivered. It felt so good, so natural, that he was suddenly certain that very soon it would all come crashing down around him.

  
  


  
  


The man stood staring out into the night, the vista that was Kirkwall spread out at his feet on the other side of the full wall of glass windows. His greying hair was immaculate, designer suit pressed to perfection. Behind him, prostrate on the floor, was a young elvehn male dressed only in a thin, diaphanous loincloth and thin gold chains at ankles, wrists and neck. The closest this backward country would allow him to collar and shackle his slave.

“Is all in readiness?” he asked, though if the answer was anything other than what he wanted, there would be serious consequences.

“Yes, Master,” the elf replied, eyes downcast. “The car is cleaned and gassed as per your request, and the medicinal serums you ordered are packed therein.”

“Good,” he replied, not bothering to turn to address the elf. “Fetch one of the others, someone young and female, as well as my knife case. Then go to your station and prepare yourself.”

“Yes, Master,” the slave replied, standing and backing away as carefully and quietly as possible. He did not envy the girl that would be used this night. Nor the cleaning staff when they came in the morning. He didn't bother thinking about what his own night would be like. He knew exactly how bad it was going to be.

 

  
  


  
  


She hated the cells. Hated how they smelled, how they felt, how little light there was. On the other hand, if they were better, than the mages wouldn't actually be feeling any punishment, now would they? Maker forsaken Blight on the world as far as she was concerned. Should all be wiped off the face of Thedas if she had any say about it.

Tonight Meredith was conducting interrogations. Stories of a Mage Underground were sweeping the city, mages flouting their evil power right under the Special Forces nose. Under her nose. And that was unacceptable. And so she would be having some long, drawn out discussions about this supposed Underground with the mages in her care.

Meredith hefted the lyrium branding iron in her hand, settling it back int her palm with a thwack. Oh yes, some very long, drawn out discussions indeed.

 

 

 


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So some of you may have noticed the note I added to the beginning of this story. I want to apologize to everyone that is following this about how long it has taken me to post something new. You have no idea how disheartening it is to have FOUR chapters suddenly disappear. I kind of gave up for a bit, I admit. But I have had my butt prodded enough times now that I am trying to write about Nickie and the boys once again. Thanks to everyone that has stuck with me through this killer dry spell.
> 
> Enjoy!

Nickie straightened the frame on the wall for what was probably the third time. This would be her second show with Bianca Davri and she wanted it to be perfect. The fact that the majority of the work being displayed this time were sketches of Anders and Fenris only fed her nervousness.

“Leave it alone, Princess,” Varric chuckled behind her. “Come on to the back and get a drink with me. The boys are getting lonely.”

Nickie turned to grin at the dwarf, spotting the men in question out of the corner of her eye holding hands and speaking softly. “You know how I'm like before people see my stuff, Varric. The fact that I let you look is something of a miracle.”

“Your stuff is fabulous and you know it. Relax, have a drink, eat a frilly cake from Orlais. You deserve it.”

She let her former boss lead her away and when Anders reached out his free arm for her she fell against his chest, leaning over to give Fenris a soft kiss to the lips. “Please ply me with alcohol and a lot of chocolate. I'm going to need it.”

Fenris quirked his lips and handed her a tall fluted glass filled with something pink and bubbling. “Only a little alcohol, _Amatus._ There will be many people tonight that wish to speak with you and you will need all of your faculties.”

Nickie grimaced at the thought. “Spoilsport,” she teased, taking a sip. Then promptly sneezed when the bubbles tickled her nose, Causing laughter all around. “Oh sure, yuk it up. Every eye isn't on any of _you_ tonight. Fine, just hand me a cake then.”

_Davri's_ filled up quickly after that. This showing didn't have the major production of the first one, but many of Bianca's repeat clients came in, expressing interest in the displayed pieces. Of course, the fact that Nickie's muses were in attendance probably helped. There was one very persistent Orlesian woman that managed to back Anders into a corner that Nickie was forced to save him from.

No one bothered Fenris. No one was ever that drunk.

Tonight's affair was much more low key, as opposed to her previous show, so when Isabela showed in her Hanged Man 'uniform' of cut-off shorts and ripped tee, she didn't look too badly out of place, though she still garnered many stares from men and women alike. Izzy just laughed it OFF as she always did and draped herself across Nickie's shoulders. “Looking real good there, Kitten. Art's not bad either.”

Nickie looked down at her own ensemble with a grin. A simple royal blue broomstick skirt paired with a plain white tank top and chunky turquoise jewellery, she felt dressed up without feeling stiff or afraid to eat anything for the crumbs. Typical Nickie wear, actually. “Varric made you work tonight, huh?”

“Just a half shift. Got Choir Boy to drive me over. He's trying to find parking so you get to entertain me for a while yet.”

“You seem to be spending a fair amount of time together,” Nickie said with a grin. “Got plans for the Prince?”

“Oh, Kitten, you have _no_ idea,” the woman replied with a lascivious wink that had Nickie giggling. Which, of course, doubled as soon as the man in question entered the gallery.

Isabela left to meet with her treat-du-jour just as Merrill and Carver came in. Nickie smiled to see Carver walking in under his own power, though he still had an obvious limp, Merrill's arm slipped through his own as she talked a mile a minute. Another week and Carver would be leaving rehab to move back into Varric's rented house and Merrill was obsessed with new curtains. At least that's what it sounded like, but this was Merrill and she could actually be talking about the ecology of ear mites for all Nickie knew. She caught Carver's eye and they exchanged a quick, knowing smile. Merrill looked up long enough to give an enthusiastic wave then pulled Carver along the wall to look at the pieces on display.

Fenris came up and wrapped an arm about Nickie's waist, watching the crowds of admirers as they took in food and drink while chatting and purchasing art. His scent enveloped her, soothing her nerves as the night progressed. When Anders wasn't being molested he would join them in a quick kiss and cuddle before being chased around by another new admirer. Eventually Fenris took pity on the man, taking into the back offices of the gallery for a respite.

The night was drawing to a close when they came in. A group of five men, four obviously guard of some sort dressed in matching black suits with pristine white shirts and thin dark ties. The suits were well cut, but not enough to mask the telltale bulge of filled shoulder holsters. The fifth man, for all his obvious wealth, reminded Nickie of a used car salesman, all grease and oil. She felt dirty just looking at him and when he turned his attention towards her she felt worse. Everything about him was fake. Straight white teeth, styled salt and pepper hair, perfect manicure, and every instinct was telling her to run as far and as fast as she could. His guards moved around the room, taking up positions around the doors and windows, blocking every avenue of escape.

“Ms. Hawke,” he began, with a thick Tevinter accent. “A pleasure to meet you at last.”

Nickie bristled, her magic beginning to pool between her fingers. She felt more than saw her friends still in the room draw closer to her back. “I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, sir. May I know your name.”

“Why of course!” He began to sweep his arm around to take a short bow. “I am-”

“Dan!”

Nickie whipped around to see Fenris and Anders just coming out to join the party, Fenris' lips pulled back in a snarl as his tattoos began to glow.

“That is Master to you, Little Wolf. As you well know,” the man replied coldly, standing to attention.

“So this is the infamous Daniel Arius,” Nickie said with a sneer as both Fenris and Anders moved forward to bracket her. She could feel the doctor's own magic creeping along his skin and for once she wished she had ignored the ban on staves in public so that they would have something to focus their abilities if this turned ugly. She looked the man up and down. “You know, I'm not as impressed as I thought I'd be.”

“So this is your new Mistress now.” Arius raked his eyes over her and Nickie fought the shudder of revulsion. “Quite the woman.”

“Fenris growled deep in his throat as Anders answered. “Fenris is no one's slave.”

“Do I detect a note of jealousy, Doctor? He is quite... skilled, isn't he?”

Nickie thought for sure she was going to be sick. Did this... creature just imply what she thought he had? A quick side glance to Fenris and she maybe he had. The elf had gone deathly pale, his brands flickering out and eyes gone wide. _Oh my poor Fenris. I'm going to destroy this butcher and then I'm taking you away. Antiva maybe._

Her only excuse now was that she was distracted for the sudden volley of electrical energy that came from the man and hit her square in the chest. She heard the others in the room screaming, some calling her name while others simply screamed. She heard flesh hit flesh and the soft retort of a silenced gun. But she could do nothing about it as her limbs locked and jumped to their own rhythm and her heart beat to a different one than it was accustomed to. The pain was excrutiating, her mouth opened for a scream that wouldn't come out. She couldn't breathe and her eyes were greying at the edges. It was moments that lasted an eternity before she felt the calming wash of Anders' healing magic.

Magic that was suddenly cut off before she was completely healed.

Nickie felt the sudden wash of the Smite even as the burning sensation returned to her chest. Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes but she had no control over them, just as she had no control over anything in her body at that moment. She thanked the Maker she hadn't had a full bladder because she was certain she wouldn't have been able to control that either.

“What is going on here?” a voice demanded with the imperiousness of someone that is _never_ denied. Nickie wished she could turn her head to see who the woman was, though she would swear she knew the voice.

“I wish to lodge a formal complaint against this man and his thugs for using unlawful magic to accost and injure a person on my premises. Every man and woman here can act as witness.” That was Bianca, Nickie would recognize her voice anywhere, and the sudden influx of others as they agreed with her.

Anders leaned down to whisper in her ear just as Fenris knelt beside her to take her hand. “It's the Commander of the Special Forces. Captain Cullen's with her and I think it's him that used his Smite on the room. Now, I'm going to need to remove your shirt to get at the burn on your chest, okay? Fenris, I need you to run back to Bianca's office. I saw a first aid kit there and I hope there will be some burn cream.”

Fenris' fingers left me and I felt their loss though he returned quickly, just as Stannard was pushing her way into the gallery, a contingent of her men behind her. Daniel was sputtering something about Diplomatic Immunity but she was having none of it. In short order he was slapped into specialized mage cuffs and led from the building, followed by his soldiers. Nickie felt both men stiffen next to her before she heard the voice of the woman in question. “I want this woman arrested as well.”

The cacophony of voices that suddenly filled the room was deafening. Calls of denial and ludicrousy from patrons and friends alike but Stannard seemed not to hear as she began to list the supposed charges of apostasy and discharge of magic in a public place. It was finally Cullen that managed to quell the room.

“Commander!” he barked. “If you continue with this pursuit in light of the multitude of witnesses that are denying it, you will be forced to step down from your position of Commander and face sanctions by the Viscount's office. Back down now. If Charges can be proven at a later date we can pursue them then.”

Nickie closed her eyes as Anders began smearing a cool gel on the skin between her breasts. _Wait! When did he get my shirt off?_ She was glad, though, that she couldn't see the expression on Meredith's face at that moment, because even she could feel the sudden absolute rage fill the room. The tension was physically palpable for nearly a minute before the woman finally barked an order to call the local police to deal with the aftermath and for her men to fall out.

Nickie felt a soft pair of lips touch lightly at her forehead and a whispered _Amatus_ had her smiling. She tried to speak, to reassure the man that she was well as well as him, but all that came out was ,”Love... Free.”

He squeezed her fingers in his own and she felt a hot tear fall to her cheek. “We are,” he whispered harshly. “All of us.”

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


One week later, Anders and Fenris let Nickie know they were going to the movies while she worked in her studio. The next morning the papers proclaimed that visiting dignitary Daniel Arius of Tevinter was found dead in his hotel room of apparent heart failure. The article mentioned nothing of the faint burn marks of a paralysis glyph on the floor or the man's misshapen heart at autopsy.

 


	41. Chapter 41

Nickie and Carver stood in the doorway of their mother's room and stared, arms wrapped around each other's waist. Thankfully all evidence of Quentin's crimes had been removed but everything else was exactly as it had been the moment she had disappeared from their lives.

“So you haven't touched anything at all?” Carver asked once again. “Would you look at all the dust!”

“Yeah, well, Mother always did say I was the laziest of children.”

Carver pushed her lightly into the room ahead of him. “Stop that,” he admonished. “If anybody is lazy in this family it's me. When I moved back home I found a pair of socks under my bed that had been there since the day after we moved in.”

“Ugh, gross, Carv!” Nickie laughed, moving to sit at the edge of the bed. “How did you ignore the smell?”

“Oh, har har. Like your feet don't stink, little sister.”

“I'm older than you!”

“Not talking about age, short shit.”

The barrage of joking insults continued until Fenris and Merrill joined them, arms filled with flattened boxes and rolls of tape. Today was the day. The day that the Hawke's finally began to move on from the death of their mother. What with Carver's return from near death and Fenris' new found freedom it felt like the time.

The group set about putting boxes together and moving slowly throughout the room. Clothing was sorted first, everyday items boxed up for the poor that visited Anders' Darktown clinic while the more expensive items set aside for a consignment shop, the money earned earmarked for the local foodbank. Her jewellery was to be split amongst Nickie's friends, though she did pocket her mother's engagement ring and their parents' wedding bands. She had plans for those. Makeup was discarded, Perfumes packed up for Izzy's pretty bottle collection, correspondence read and saved or shredded depending on subject matter and relevance. For the majority of the day it was a simple task, really. Carver only teared up twice.

No, the hard part was in the closet, after all the fancy dresses and pairs upon pairs of shoes had been packed up and stored in Fenris' car for transport to the shop. Two boxes, worn and ripped in a few places, that might once have held fruit from the local supermarket were piled one atop the other in the very back corner. They were labelled Malcolm and Bethany.

“Oh, fuck,” Carver exclaimed softly. “I thought all their stuff got wrecked in the fire.”

So did Nickie. She pulled the boxes out and stared at them a moment before peeling the tape away from the one with their sister's name. She felt Carver move next to her as she lifted the lid, Fenris and Merrill watching from near the bed. They seemed to understand that this was something that the two of them needed to do themselves.

This time Carver was willing to admit he cried, though if anyone actually asked it was because there was still the noxious smell of smoke on everything. Journals and schoolwork with a touch of singeing around the edges. A couple of her favourite tee shirts. And, of course, Mister Bun. Carver pulled the old stuffed rabbit toy from the box and held it close to his chest before handing it over to Merrill. “Could you put that up on my dresser, love?” he asked. “I don't want the dog thinking it's a new toy for him to chew.” She nodded with a soft smile before taking it and leaving the room. Nickie gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before they moved on to the other box.

Malcolm's belongings were both easier and harder to sort through. A shoe box of photos, mostly of their father with the children in various stages of growth, a wedding snap shot that a friend must have taken as their parents kissed at the altar. Their was a bundle of letters tied together in red ribbon that were from their parents to each other. The majority seemed to be from when their mother was pregnant with Nickie and Malcolm had taken a short term out of town job to earn their start up money. Nickie stopped reading after the second letter because apparently Mom could get pretty graphic when she was of a mind. No one needed to know that about their mother. Ever.

But what caught their attention was an envelope, plain manila with no writing on it at all. Inside were a very old five and a quarter floppy disk, as well as a three and a half, neither of which would work in today's computers. Lastly was a slightly more modern computer disk labelled simply 'Read Me'.

Nickie stared down at the disks with curiosity. “Fenris, could you go and get my laptop for me? I think it's on the desk in the front hall.” He didn't answer but she could feel it when he left the room.

“What are those?” Carver asked, reaching out and plucking the oldest disk from her fingers.

“Not sure,” she replied. Something Dad was working on before he died, maybe? One of his compilation programs on magical theory?”

“Oh, wouldn't that be helpful!” Merrill chirped, coming over to rest a hand on Carver's arm. “So many spells are lost because no one shares. Wouldn't it be wonderful if that never happened?”

Nickie smiled as Fenris returned with the computer in hand. “It certainly would, Merrill. Thank you, Fenris. Now let's see what we've got.”

She booted her system up and inserted the CD, half sure that it would come back as unreadable. But instead a password prompt came up. “Shit,” Carver hissed. “Guess we're not getting in.”

Nickie chuckled. “Oh yee of little faith, baby brother. If this was Dad's there's no issue. If there was one thing about Dad is that he was predictable about his passwords.” She typed quickly- 18 Wintersend- and the prompt vanished to be replaced with a series of folders.

“How-?”

“The date the Dad met Mom. He liked to use that one a lot. If that one didn't work I'd have tried birthdays next. Now, let's see what we have here...”

At first no one knew what exactly they were looking at. The first files were nothing but names and dates, along with simple words such as fire, ice, and creation. It was Merrill that pointed out that the words were also used to label schools of magic. A bit of digging proved her right, a list of children taken from their families and put into Towers 'for their own good'.

The next set of files had Nickie's blood running cold. Those same names, another set of dates, a list of transgressions and their punishments. More often than not the last punishment listed was Tranquility or death. The last date listed was nearly a year before Nickie was born.

Fenris laid a hand softly on Nickie's shoulder and she turned into his chest. Carver stayed staring at the screen, flipping back and forth through the files. “This is monstrous,” he muttered. “There's one guy here, Madox, who was made Tranquil for passing love notes to another mage.”

“We have to show this to Aveline!” Merrill cried through the fingers pressed to her lips.

“What can she do?” Fenris asked gruffly. “She has no jurisdiction over the Special Forces, and it appears all of these orders came from Meredith Stannard herself. The automated signature at the base of each sheet appears to be from her office. They would have to pass it off to the Grand Cleric's office.”

“And we all know how effective that old biddy is,” Carver grumbled. “Have you seen any of the news blurbs about the Mage Underground? Mages are getting picked up left and right, one just for using 'unsanctioned magic' using an ice spell to cool her drink! It's disgusting! And all Elthina will do is say 'if the Maker wills it'. Makes me want to spit nails!”

Merrill slid in to wrap her arms around Carver's waist and Nickie gave him a grin. “You wouldn't let them take me away, would you little brother?”

Before he could answer Fenris took her in his arms, nuzzling down into her neck. “Never. She would have to pry you from my cold, dead fingers.”

Nickie shivered at the contact and vowed to show her appreciation later. A light commotion in the entry and a chipper greeting from Bodahn let the group know that Anders had returned from the clinic and with silent agreement they split to close up the laptop and hide the evidence away. Nickie felt conflicted about it, but the fewer people that this might hurt the better as far as she was concerned. The man in question called out a soft 'Hey' just as she took hold of a roll of tape to seal the box of bottles for Isabela,

“Hey yourself, there, handsome,” she replied. “How was the clinic today?”

He folded his long body wearily on the edge of the bed and reached out to pull Nickie into his lap, resting his forehead against hers. Fenris sat himself next to them, lazily running his fingers up and down the man's spine. Merrill and Carver quietly left the trio alone, throwing them a soft smile. “Today was... hard. It seemed like every time I turned around someone was coming in with injuries sustained by the hands of one of Stannard's goons! And there wasn't shit I could do to stop it! I just... really need cuddling tonight. That okay?”

Nickie whispered soft words of love in the mage's ear as she looked over him to Fenris, the elf nodding in understanding. Something definitely needed to be done and maybe, just maybe, her dad had furnished her with the means.

 

 


	42. Chapter 42

Broken Iris' _We're Not Alone_ was playing softly in the background from Nickie's old stereo as she worked. The one thing she had refused to give up when she moved into the Amell estate had been the little bedroom studio in Varric's rented house and she was now hard at work, the outside world and all it's misbegotten shit left behind for inks and brushes and canvas.

Fenris had come home, about to descend to his little apartment when he noticed the music and gone to investigate. Now he stood in the doorframe, watching as she dabbed at what would eventually be an ocean background, the blue-greens a stark contrast to the subject matter of the foreground, which seemed to be made up mostly of reds and browns, though he was hard pressed to actually name what it would be. The song switched over to Ed Sheeran's _I See Fire_ and she slowed her movements accordingly. He wondered if Nickie even realized she was doing it, swaying to the music as she painted, or if it was something unconscious, like when she bit her lip when nervous, or tapped her foot when angry. Those little things that made her so damned beautiful in his eyes.

There was a sudden flurry of noise from the entry hall, distracting him from his thoughts and pulling Nickie away from her internal world. “Oh, Fenris!” she said with a smile. “How long have you been standing there?”

And there was another little quirk he loved. When surprised like that, she would reach up to take hold of her hair and twist it in her fingers, as though to ground herself. The noises in the hall continued, Carver calling to his mabari, Nox, to keep it down while he put groceries away. “Not long. I just got back from the studio and thought to invite you for dinner.”

“Hmmm,” she grinned, looking down at herself, dressed in a pair of old pyjama bottoms and tee shirt streaked in paint. “I'm not really dressed for going out and I don't think I have anything else here anymore.”

Fenris blushed slightly, his mind supplying pictures of Nickie in a multitude of states of undress. Even after all this time he still found the idea of her nude highly arousing. “Actually I thought that maybe I would cook for you. I believe Anders is working at the clinic again this evening and it wouldn't do for either of us to eat alone. We can go downstairs so that we may avoid your brother.”

“I heard that!” a voice called from the kitchen and Nickie giggled.

“I would love that, Fenris. Just let me clean up and put away my things and I'll meet you in the kitchen to help. But let's eat the table like adults for once, okay?”

Fenris shivered at the idea of Nickie cooking even as he nodded at her suggestion. She was a wonderful person with many talents, but culinary skills were a definite no. He shook his head with a quirk of the lips and turned to go to the kitchen where Carver was sorting through the last of the provisions he had procured. “Were you able to get everything?” he asked, shifting through fresh vegetables and cheeses.

“Yeah,” the young man grumbled. “But I gotta tell ya, nobody out there knows shit about Tevinter food.”

Fenris quirked his lips up in a slight grin. “Very true. And the veal shanks?”

Carver waved towards the refrigerator as he reached down to scratch his mabari about the ruff. “Butcher kept trying to sell me the more expensive shit. Finally had to grab him by the apron and give him the what for.”

The elf sighed slightly and shook his head. “Aggressive negotiations, Carver. Very tactful. Now leave, and I will call you to take a plate away when it is finished.” Carver left with a huff, taking his dog with and Fenris turned his attention back to dinner, knives pulled from their block and beginning to flash in the afternoon light from the window. _All right, veal shanks marinated in white wine, cinnamon, beef broth. Let's add some carrot, celery and onion. Hmm.. good. He got the lemon zest to go with the garlic and parsley._

Fenris worked quickly, setting the shanks to marinate while he prepared the herbal garnish. Thankfully he had prepared some _polenta_ earlier in the week, or he'd be at this forever. Nickie tried coming into the kitchen and peering over his shoulder but he shooed her away to the living room and out of his way. It wasn't long before Fenris was cutting _polenta_ rounds onto large plates and scooping out veal shanks over top with sauce and vegetables, garnished with herbs. He called Carver first and sent the boy off with a delighted expression before setting the plates on the large kitchen table for himself and Nickie.

“What is it?” she asked, grinning at the concoction as she took up her utensils.

“ _Ossobuco_ over a bed of _polenta_ with a _gremolata_ garnish.”

Nickie grinned, a touch of heat in her eyes. “I love it when you talk all 'Vinty like that.”

Fenris chuckled, taking a bite of the meal. They ate in companionable silence for a while, at least until Carver hobbled from his cave looking for more, then they chatted of their day and inconsequential things, smiling and generally content.

It was something Fenris never thought to have in the few short years of his memory. When he woke, scarred and broken, he was nothing more than a slave to Daniel and his whims. When he made his escape from that life he was forced to stay alone, no friends or ties lest Daniel find him. He tried once. Took the name Fenris Blackfeather and worked in Emergency Dispatch for the Free Marches for nearly a year before the man found him and he was forced to pull up roots once again. And if not for a freak encounter in a dark alley he might still be living that life, if it could be called living.

He reached out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Nickie's ear and she smiled up at him. His tiny little beauty, so full of life she seemed ten feet tall. He still felt drawn to her, as though a thin thread pulled from her heart to his. It scared him and filled him with elation all at once. And now, with Daniel no longer a threat, maybe, just maybe, they might have a chance.

“You, my good sir, are thinking some very deep thoughts,” Nickie chided, pointing at him with her fork.

Fenris could feel the beginnings of a flush to his cheeks. “My apologies. I was... lost in thoughts of the future.”

“The future?” she replied with a gleam in her eye. “I think I like that thought.”

So did he.

  
  


  
  


  
  


Anders was exhausted, but what else was new? It seemed like the hundredth time this week that someone had come in bruised and beaten at the hands of Meredith Stannard's Special Forces. Most of the victims were known mages or elves, making it nearly impossible for them to receive treatment from the regular Chantry run hospitals. It turned Anders' stomach. He wanted to lash out, to scream and rant and break things, but none of that would change anything. Not really.

No, what needed to change was Meredith herself. More and more she was becoming unhinged. Just this morning she announced a curfew for all mages between the hours of dusk and dawn, making it impossible for many to get to their jobs, night work being all that many of them could get, thanks to the prejudices of 'normal' people. He thanked the Maker that, as a medical professional, he was currently exempt from the curfew in case of emergency calls, though he wondered just how long that would last. Many medical mages were being let go from their current positions in favour of more mundane medicine.

Anders was just tying his sneakers in the clinic's tiny locker room when one of the clinic's assistants popped her head in. “You decent?” Lirene asked with a bit of a grin.

“You'd be getting an eyeful if I weren't, wouldn't you?” he replied with an answering smile.

“That was the point.” She took a step inside, turning serious. “There's someone here to see you. A friend of mine.”

Anders sighed. “Any other patient and I'd tell them to see someone else, but for you-”

“Not a patient,” she said quickly. “A friend, someone I've been working with for a while now and I think you should meet.”

Anders frowned though his curiosity was piqued. He knew Lirene had few friends and he could think of no one outside the clinic that she might work with in any capacity. “All right, give me a minute and I'll meet him in my office.”

Lirene smiled and backed out of the locker room, allowing Anders to grab up his coat and head back to the small closet that had been set up for his office. And it really had been a storage closet before he came. He had tried to make it more homey, with a small bettered desk from the Goodwill and a couple of worn chairs, banker's boxes used as file cabinets and a small elfroot plant on the sill of a tiny window. He had even managed to cage a tiny painting out of Nickie in soft hues of pink and blue for the wall and a tiny metal statuette of a playful kitten from Fenris to act as a paperweight on his desk. Okay, he was willing to admit it was shit, but it was his shit and he liked it.

Both Lirene and her friend were already in the room, making for a very tight fit, but Anders managed to get around his desk and take a seat, folding his hands over the blotter. At first look, Anders took the man opposite him as very old, but upon closer examination he realized he was extremely scarred, as though from a fire or massive dehydration. His body, though, seemed to still be that of a virile man of forty, thick in the shoulders and chest with heavy muscle.

“Doctor Warden Anderson I'd like you to meet my friend Kristoff,” Lirene began. “Though most of us call him Justice.”

Anders put out his hand, surprised at the tight grip of the other even with the multitude of scars that marred his fingers. “A pleasure. And what can I do for you today?”

The man called Justice chuckled, his voice a disturbing rumble, as though it came from far away. “It is more of what I can do for you, Doctor,” he replied. “Have you ever heard of something called the Mage Underground?”

 


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't hurt me! Don't worry, we'll get back to fluff soon I promise.

First snowfall in Kirkwall was the only time when winter was really pretty on the city's streets. When everything was pristine white and sparkled in the light of the sun. Fenris looked out Nickie's kitchen window at the covering of white over the yard and the thin sheath of ice on the branches of nearby trees.

He was not a fan.

If there was one thing Fenris knew about his past it was that he came from a very warm clime. Sure he'd learned over the years how to appreciate the beauty of winter and the uses of layers when dressing, that didn't mean he had to like it. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of going out in it. And not a good shiver.

Anders and Nickie, on the other hand, seemed to relish the cold. In fact, Anders complained briefly about how little snow there was and that they couldn't 'do anything with it', before he had run out for another day at the clinic. Nickie had squealed, run to a nearby closet and emerged a minute later with the most hideous pink knit hat Fenris had ever seen on her head. Although he did have to admit that she looked adorable in it. Now she was out there in it, kicking up a mess of the stuff as she went, chasing some of the neighbour kids around trees in a game of hide and seek.

“Will you be joining the Mistress, Messere Fenris?” Bodahn asked, coming up to Fenris' elbow at the window.

Fenris shuddered again. “Not voluntarily.”

Bodahn grinned softly. “As you wish. I will be taking my boy, Sandahl, out in a few minutes, if there's anything you need.”

Fenris shook his head, eyes trained out the window. Nickie had stopped running, laughing at the antics of the little boy making snow spirits at her feet, face flushed from exertion and the cold. His breath caught, once again shocked at the beauty he found in her. Even when swaddled head to toe in a pink snowsuit and knitwear. He wished he had his camera at the ready, to immortalize the scene. Maybe a quick sketch instead, he thought to himself.

He turned and raced up to Nickie's bedroom, looking for some scrap paper or something. Her desk was a mess of doodles, receipts and letters of invitation from neighbouring nobles. Those drove Nickie nuts and she never replied, but they just kept coming. Having a somewhat famous artist in the neighbourhood was apparently good gossip. Fenris took up a few of these, figuring Nickie wouldn't miss them.

Fenris began to turn away when something grabbed his attention. It took him a moment to realize it was a flash of old leather beneath the sheets of paper. Curiosity piqued, he moved the sheets to the far corner of the desk to uncover an old book, leather so old and dark it felt almost greasy beneath his fingers. It didn't seem to have a title, just a tower embossed into the leather, highlighted in gold leaf. Classy but ultimately useless. Without a title how was someone supposed to know what they were reading. Flipping it open he found it to be a printing of early Tevinter history. Why in the Maker's name would Nickie be reading about this? Then he reached the centre section.

It was several minutes before Fenris realized what he was reading. Nerveless fingers dropped the tome to the floor when he did. _Blood magic? She is studying..._ Vishante kaffas! He scrambled to retrieve the book and replace it on the desk, covering it to the best of his abilities. He needed to get to Anders.

Now.

  
  


  
  


Anders groaned, resting his head in his hands briefly before returning his attention to the computer monitor in front of him. He was once again in his little office, trying desperately to get the words in his head out into the world. Justice had asked- well, no, more like demanded in his own way- that Anders write out a treatise on the abuses subjugated upon mages over the Ages. Why Anders had agreed he had no idea. The whole thing was taking up more and more of his time until he was using his only five minutes free in the work day to try and get something, anything, onto the screen.

Kristoff had waxed poetical about the plight of mages in southern Thedas and how he and his group were working to change the minds of the masses. Right now it was mostly political rallies, speeches at any venue that would take them and op-ed letters to the local papers and online blogs.

And then there was the 'underground' part of the Mage Underground. Kristoff, along with a select few, had found an ancient tunnel system that lead beneath the small straight between the Gallows island and the mainland along the Wounded Coast. He and these others would sneak in during the dark of night to whisk away mages that were being held there against their will. Not the criminals, of course, at least according to Justice. But the ones whose only crime was being a mage and practicing their Maker given talent. Of those there were quite a few. Anders had already seen many of them in a medical capacity, sporting cuts, bruises, even whip marks and the obvious signs of rape. Kristoff would then take them away once again, setting them up with other members of the Underground in other cities throughout out the Free Marches.

Anders stared at the monitor, reading the little he had put down so far and very nearly erased it all. It was shit, horrible, no one would read it or if they did they'd assume it was a joke. Outlandish propoganda, the lot of it. His finger was poised over the delete key when he heard the slight scuffle from the front of the clinic. With a full body sigh he levered himself up from the desk and followed the noise. It was Fenris arguing with Lirene, demanding to be let back to see him.

“S'okay, Llirene,” Anders said, approaching the pair. “Fenris? What's the matter? Is Nickie okay?” He looked around the clinic to see if she was there as well.

“We need to speak. In private.” Fenris looked from Anders to his assistant, obviously uncomfortable.

“Of course.” Anders motioned to an empty examination room, following Fenris inside and closing the door. “Okay, so what's wrong? You never come here just to visit.”

Fenris double checked the seal on the office door before reaching into his thick pea coat, pulling out a heavy black tome. Anders could feel the faintest tingle of magical energy coming off it and was surprised. Fenris had as little to do with magic as he possibly could, even in a relationship with two mages. The elf handed it to him and Anders immediately wanted to wash his hands from the greasy feel. “What is this, Fenris?”

“I found this buried beneath papers on Hawke's desk. Look at the centre section,” Fenris said softly, almost as though he were afraid to be overheard.

Anders looked from the elf down to the book, a scowl marring his features. Black leather embossed with a tower... it stirred a memory from his school years but he couldn't place it for his life. Vellum pages printed with a history of Tevinter. Interesting but nothing to get up in arms- Oh! These are handprinted... “Fenris, I can't read Tevene. What are these pages here?”

“A blood mages spell book. Or at least part of one.” Fenris sat heavily in Anders' client chair. “I believe Nickie may have been secretly studying blood magic after what happened with Hadriana.”

Anders snapped the book closed and wiped a hand down his face. “Well, fuck”

“Yes.”

“Double fuck.”

“Yes.”

“Andraste burning fucking knickers!”

“That is enough, Anders. I need your help in what to do about this.”

Anders went around to his own desk chair and sat heavily, placing the tome in the centre of the flat surface. “I don't know!” he cried in exasperation. “I mean, it's not like she's using it, right?”

“That we know of,” Fenris replied stoically.

“Oh, thanks for that.” Anders grimaced, glaring at the book as though it were at fault. “Well, Nickie knows about as much Tevene as I do, right? She probably doesn't even know what she's got here.”

Fenris stared at the mage with incredulity. “Really? You're just going to brush it off? She is a mage with part of a blood mage's spell book! It's only a matter of time before she figures out how to use it!”

Anders instantly had his back up. In the back of his mind he knew he shouldn't, that Fenris was always going to assume the worst of mages until proven otherwise, but he couldn't help it. Maybe all the long hours he'd been putting in, both here at the clinic and with the Underground, were finally starting to affect his judgment. “So are you saying that because _I'm_ now in possession of the book it's only a matter of time before _I_ start using it?”

Fenris scoffed with a wave of his hand. “Of course not, Mage. That is ridiculous.”

“Oh I'm back to being 'Mage' now, am I? Can't be bothered to use my name?”

Fenris glared. “What is wrong with you? We are discussing Hawke, not you.”

“What's wrong with me? What's _wrong_ with me?” Now Anders had his back up, though, really, he knew there really wasn't a reason to. He just couldn't seem to help himself. “There's nothing wrong with me! Maybe there's something wrong with you!”

Fenris stood abruptly, the back of his chair hitting the wall as he moved.“ _Kaffas_! That is not what I meant and you are well aware of that!” They glowered at each other before Fenris threw his arms up in the air and stormed off, slamming doors as he went.

Anders sat in his chair heavily, lowering his face into his hands once again. What _was_ wrong with him? That wasn't like him at all. Was he that over tired that he would react so badly, especially with Fenris? He stood to follow the elf just as Lirene stepped in to block the doorway. “You have a patient in room three, male aged six, laceration to the left calf, looks like stitches.”

Anders sighed, then took a deep breath, straightening himself and pasting on his doctor smile. Fenris and Nickie were going to have to wait until later.

  
  


  
  


Nickie shoved a pile of papers from her desk in a showering cascade. Where in the Void was that damned book? It wasn't in the safe or her nightstand or here on the desk where she would swear she had left it. She prayed to the Maker she had left it in the studio somewhere, though she couldn't remember ever taking it there.

She really hoped it didn't end up in the wrong hands. She'd been half-way through working out one of the persuasion spells and she feared she might have accidentally left a suspicion compulsion in it's pages. She needed to get it back to fix it.

Before things got out of hand.

 


End file.
